One Good Turn
by EveyHammond
Summary: When a serious illness forces Heyes and Kid to take refuge on a remote homestead up in the hills, they must find a way of repaying the family who've sheltered them.
1. Chapter 1

One Good Turn - Chapter One

Woodsmoke spiralled up from a fire under the trees, curling lazily in the still night air. The scent of it carried sharply to the man down at the river's edge, turning his thoughts to food and hot coffee. Beside him one of the horses drinking from the water lifted its head and whickered, twitching its flanks and shaking its head irritably.

"Easy, there." Kid Curry laid a calming hand on the horse's neck, smoothing the twitching skin. "Easy." The horse shook its head one more time, then blew out with a snort. Beside it, its companion animal also lifted its head and shifted its feet, stepping sideways from the river. "I guess that means you're done." Kid spoke quietly. "Sure now? Figure you've had enough to drink?" He waited for a moment to give the animals a last chance to slake their thirst, listening to the running of the river ahead in the darkness. One of the horses shifted and stamped slightly on the muddy ground. "Okay, you're done." He tightened his hold on the reins and led the two animals back up the shallow riverbank, walking slowly in the gloom.

Ahead of him the fire flickered, dazzling his night vision: Kid shaded his eyes with one hand as he guided the horses to the snag of an old dead tree and picketed them out. Then he headed back to the fire. As he drew close smoke billowed out in a cloud: he squinted through it, his eyes stinging, and ducked down to clearer air. "Heyes, are you cooking dinner or smoking it?"

"This blamed wood's so wet it's a miracle I got a fire going at all." Crouching by the meagre flames, Heyes was fanning the fire with his hat in an effort to goad the smouldering fuel into burning more fiercely. "Yet another delight from this boggy excuse for dry land." Smoke rose into his face and he turned it to one side, shutting his eyes. "Son of a…"

"All you've done since we got this job is grouse." Kid crouched down.

"Yeah, and with good reason."

"C'mon – we've rounded up stray cattle before. There's worse jobs."

"Right." Heyes began fanning the fire again. "Only right now I just can't bring 'em to mind."

"It ain't so bad." Kid spoke lightly, recognising that his partner's usual sunny mood had gone into eclipse. "Ground's easy riding; we found nearly thirty head; got the country to ourselves. Nice and peaceful."

"Except for some fool who talks to horses."

"Keeps 'em gentled." Kid felt the first sting of irritability breaking through his attempts to keep the peace. "You sung enough cattle asleep to know that. They were both twitchy as lizards down by the river, with all them mosquitoes. They was getting riled."

"They're not the only ones." Heyes settled his hat back onto his head, frowning into the fire. "Since we been in this godforsaken valley, I swear there ain't one mosquito living here that hasn't made a meal out of me."

"Guess there are more'n a few hereabouts." Kid shrugged. "They don't seem to bother me none."

"Yeah, that's what I don't understand." Heyes shot him a jaundiced look. "How is it I get bit in a hundred places, includin' some I didn't know I had till now, and you get off with hardly a scratch." Heyes' brows creased into a sudden frown. "Ah, hell… Wish I hadn't said that."

"What?"

"Scratch." Heyes looked pained. "I itch worse'n a jay on an ant hill."

Curry laughed. "We been chased by posses, jumped by bounty hunters, beat on, held up, shot at – and you let a few bug bites get you down? You need to toughen up, partner."

"Uh huh." Heyes gave his friend a jaundiced look. "I'd'a needed skin as tough as a buffalo's to keep them darn mosquitoes away."

"Never heard a grown man fuss so about nothin'." Curry was grinning now.

"You wouldn't be sayin' that if was you they'd been eatin' alive."

"Well, some of us were born luckier 'n others." Curry looked smug.

"Uh huh." Heyes hitched one shoulder up with a frown, trying to shift the itch between his shoulder blades, then let it drop. "I reckon it's more like, there's some things even mosquitoes won't eat."

"Now, was that a nice thing to say?" Curry's brows drew up into a mock wounded expression.

"There's a time and place for nice. And this ain't it." Heyes reached for the coffee pot and stood it carefully on the fire. Kid let out a sigh. "What we havin' for eats?"

"Beans and biscuits."

"Any bacon left?"

"Nope." Heyes poked the embers up around the base of the coffee pot. "Finished the last of it up this morning."

"Huh." Kid pursed his lips. "Maybe it is time to think about heading back."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said all day."

"You figure heading up to Garnerville's our best move for selling these beef?"

"Sure. Get as good a price there for 'em as we'll get anywhere." Heyes rose and lifted the covered pan of beans, setting it on the side of the fire near the coffeepot. "Likely we won't get more'n ten, maybe twelve dollars a head… But it'll do us for a while. Till we find ourselves another job, anyways."

"Mm-hmm." Kid looked at the flames licking around the pan. "Ain't much in the way of work opportunities in Garnerville."

"Yeah, I know." Heyes crouched back on his heels. "I was wonderin' about riding on to Lawton, sitting in on some poker games. There's a couple of bars there with casinos; plenty of action and not too many good players."

"Sounds like a plan." Kid glanced at his friend, smiling slightly. "You had enough of cattle herding for a while?"

"Oh, it ain't the cattle I've had enough of," Heyes replied. Suddenly he reached up and slapped hard at the back of his neck. "Damnit - " He examined the palm of his hand and shook his head. "I swear, the next mosquito bites me I'm gonna torture it to death, like they been doin' to me all week."

After their supper both men unpacked their bed rolls and settled down to sleep not far from the fire. For some time Heyes shifted about restlessly under his blanket. At last Kid's voice came to him through the darkness. "Heyes, you planning on keeping that up all night?"

Heyes let out a sigh, then turned onto his back, staring up at the night sky. "Sorry, Kid. Guess I just don't feel sleepy."

"Well, no need to feel sorry 'bout it. Just maybe, it'd be good if you let those of us who do feel like sleeping get some shut-eye."

"Right." Heyes lay quiet for a few minutes, still looking up into the night. Then, "Kid?"

There was a barely suppressed groan, followed by a muttered response. "What?"

"D'you ever worry we're not gonna make it?"

"Meaning?"

"You know. That we're not gonna make it through without blowing our amnesty."

"Heyes, you pick a fine time to worry about the big stuff."

"Don't it ever keep you awake at night, thinking about it?"

"Well, right now you're doin' a pretty fine job of that."

"Sometimes I just get to wondering about whether it'll work out. That's all."

"Uh huh."

"I mean, how long we been outlaws? Near enough ten years, off and on? Kind of makes me wonder what else we're cut out for."

"Time enough to worry about that once we got the amnesty," Kid responded.

"Yeah… But don't you ever think about it?"

"Sometimes, yeah. But right at this moment, all I'm thinking about is how we got to get up at daybreak, and how much easier that's gonna be with a good night's sleep."

"Sometimes I think maybe I could get a share in a casino… Even run a place of my own."

"I'm happy for you, Heyes."

"Then I think, I ain't so sure I'd take to it. It's alright when it's just for a spell, but spend the rest of my life doing that? Think I'd go crazy after a while."

"Heyes?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep."

oooOOOooo

The clatter of the coffee pot lid woke Heyes the next morning. His eyes squinted open into dazzling sunlight: he shut them again and tried to recapture whatever dream it was he'd just been having. The smell of smoke and coffee defeated him, and he abandoned his attempt. Pushing back his blanket, he sat up and looked across to where Kid was fixing breakfast. "Morning."

"Mornin'." Kid glanced across at him. "Coffee?"

"Oh, yeah." Heyes rubbed a hand across his face, letting out a huge yawn. Then he winced and scratched at his neck. "Damn – I been ate alive again while I was asleep!"

"Don't expect no sympathy from me." Kid passed him his tin mug full of steaming black coffee. "Not after you kept me awake half the night."

Heyes took the coffee and swallowed a scalding mouthful, then set the mug on the ground. He stood up and shook out his bed roll, then began packing it up. "Well, here's a proposal might cheer you up some. How's about we aim to sleep in a bed by tomorrow night."

"Head up to Garnerville today?" Kid pursed his lips, nodding thoughtfully. "Guess we could do that."

"We set off this morning, we could be there by noon tomorrow. Find us a buyer and unload the beef, get ourselves a hotel room and a bath and a real meal." Heyes was visibly brightening as he unfolded his idea. "What d'you say?"

"I'd say you talked me into it," Kid grinned.

As soon as breakfast was made and eaten and the fire doused, the two men set about the day's work. The sun made good its promise of the early morning and soon the air grew uncomfortably warm and humid in the sheltered valley bottom as they pushed the cattle along on horseback. Waiting behind the moving herd, Heyes took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his face. He turned as Kid rode up. "That's the last of 'em, right?"

"Yeah." Kid looked as hot as Heyes felt. "Leastways, it better be. I sure don't want to spend any more time riding these bottom lands."

"I'm with you on that one." Heyes regarded the boggy low ground with dislike. "No wonder folks don't settle down here in the flats. Must be a regular swamp come the winter rains."

"Let's get 'em up to higher ground. We'll make quicker time up on the plain." Kid spurred his horse on towards the herd, closely followed by his friend.

oooOOOooo

After one more night spent sleeping under the stars, the outlaws reached Garnerville a little after midday. A buyer took the herd off their hands after only a little haggling on Heyes' part for a price all parties could live with: the partners found themselves with a little over three hundred dollars and the simple pleasures of the small town at their disposal.

A bath, a shave and a good meal later, they had settled on the porch of Garnerville's only hotel for an unhurried smoke and to watch the world go by. After a long companionable silence, Heyes tipped back comfortably in his chair and rested his feet up on the porch rail, letting out a satisfied sigh. Beside him Kid smiled around his cigarillo. "That's one thing I'll say for working cattle. Kinda makes you appreciate life's little comforts."

"Sure does." Heyes removed his own cigar and regarded its glowing end meditatively. "Pity we can't stay here a week or two."

"Gotta earn ourselves a living." Kid blew a stream of smoke out into the evening air. "That's one of the drawbacks of this law-abiding lifestyle."

"Mm-hmm." Heyes replaced his cigar in his mouth. "So you still happy for us to ride on to Lawton?"

"Guess it's as good a place to head to as any other. How far you reckon it is from here?"

"I'd say three, maybe four days, if we take it easy. No reason to push it." Heyes looked thoughtful. "We could stay here tomorrow, rest up the horses and get some supplies. Head on out the day after."

"Suits me." Kid folded his arms behind his head. "The money we got today should keep us flush for a little while. Then if you reckon you can find a poker game once we're in Lawton, make enough to tide us over till we find some payin' work…"

Heyes grinned around his cigar. "Kid, when have you ever known me not to find a game?"


	2. Chapter 2

One Good Turn - Chapter Two

Early on the second morning after they'd arrived in Garnerville, the partners rode out and left the small town behind. Bright blue sky with only a few high clouds heralded another warm day; they had restocked their provisions and their horses were fresh from two days' rest and a good feed of oats in the local livery stable. They still had a healthy wedge of cash between them that would make a fair-sized poker stake once they hit Lawton. Both men were in good spirits and for the first part of their journey the stagecoach road made an easy route to follow, enabling them to make good time for the first few miles. As the horses held a pretty fair pace on the level ground it was well after noon before they made a rest stop.

Heyes led the horses to drink at a stream a short walk away from the track, while Kid unpacked food for them to have a bite to eat. He picked a spot in the meagre patch of shade cast by a scrubby tree at the side of the road and set out the food and one of their canteens of water. Leaning back against the tree with hands folded behind his head, Kid watched Heyes walk slowly back up from the stream and tether the horses. His partner gave their reins an experimental tug to make sure the animals wouldn't wander off, then approached and sat down opposite Kid. Heyes slid off his hat and ruffled hair dark with sweat off his forehead. "Sure is shaping up to be a hot day."

"Yeah." Kid offered him the canteen: Heyes took it with a nod of thanks and swallowed three throat-swelling gulps of cool water. "How many miles we made, you figure?"

"Maybe fifteen." Heyes passed the canteen back to the Kid, then fanned his face with his hat. "I been thinkin', we could make a detour."

"Leave the stage road?" queried Kid. "It's easy riding."

"Yeah, but it goes the long way round. We can strike up over that ridge, follow it north a ways, then cut down back to the stage road again nearer Lawton… Could save ourselves more'n half a day's riding. Plus it'd be cooler up in the hills."

"There is that." Kid considered Heyes' proposition for a moment. "Okay, let's do it."

oooOOOooo

After eating their midday meal, both men turned their horses off the beaten track and headed them up into the foothills. The pace was slower on the rough ground, but as they gained height a cooling breeze brought fresher air and riding was a pleasanter task. The spicy sun-warmed scent of sagebrush came on the wind: in the distance they often saw the high-wheeling shape of a buzzard, hunting gracefully across its territory. The hours passed peacefully, until the sun began to fall low in the sky and both men began looking for a place to camp for the night.

"How about against that outcrop?" said Kid, pointing a few hundred yards ahead to a small rocky bluff. "Gives us some shelter if the wind picks up after sunset."

"Looks okay to me," agreed Heyes. They both turned their horses towards it.

The small bluff yielded a bonus: its rocky base shaded a small pool of water, much sunk after days without rain but sufficient to water the horses without depleting their own supplies of drinking water. Kid saw to the animals while Heyes made a fire and fixed supper.

Sitting by the fire's flickering flames and cleaning the last of the food off his plate, Kid glanced across at his partner. Heyes was sitting with one knee drawn up, head resting back against the rock, eyes half shut. Beside him sat his own plate of food, only half-eaten. Kid nodded at it. "You know somethin' about supper I don't?"

Heyes glanced down at his plate, then shrugged. "Thought I was hungry, but I guess I ain't." He massaged his forehead with his fingers. "Think I got too much sun today."

"Well, if you don't want it, pass it over." Kid reached out as Heyes obligingly handed his leftovers across. As he began to finish his friend's food, Kid eyed him. "You drunk plenty of water today, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Heyes leaned his head back again.

"Well, maybe you should just get some shut-eye. We made good time, don't need to be up and ridin' on too early."

"Maybe I'll do that." Heyes rose and got his bed roll, laid it out beside the fire, and lay down. His meal finished, Kid also stood and cleared plates and pans away. He brought his own bed roll up and built up the fire a little: with the sun down, the night air had grown uncomfortably chilly. Methodically he made his bed, keeping his sheepskin jacket on as an extra layer, and crawled inside. His body, stiff after the long day's ride, relaxed into the relative comfort of his blankets. He closed his eyes and listened to the crackle of wood in the fire. The sound was soothing. Gradually his breathing slowed as he fell into a comfortable sleep.

oooOOOooo

Heyes woke early in the morning, before the sun had lifted over the horizon. He lay still for a while, listening to the small noises of night creatures coming to the end of their watch. Up above him stars were still just visible in the lightening sky. The air felt cold against his face, and he had no desire to get up or kindle a fire. The headache he'd gone to sleep with was still there, he noticed with a trace of irritation.

A few feet away Kid turned over in his sleep, muttering. Heyes allowed himself a smile. It never failed to impress him how solidly Kid could sleep, no matter how hard the ground. Years of living the outlaw life had given them both the ability to nap at will in the most uncomfortable of surroundings, but for himself he had noticed that he was getting a lot fonder of the comfort of a real bed than he used to be.

Slowly the sky lightened further, the stars fading until sunlight broke over the rim of the hills and stretched across to the rocky bluff. From Kid's direction came a muffled grunt, then the sound of stirring. After a moment Kid sat up, yawned, then rubbed a hand across his face.

"Mornin'." Heyes spoke up to the sky, but aimed the greeting at his friend.

"Mornin'…" Kid yawned again, then glanced at the ashes of last night's fire. "Mmph." He looked across at Heyes. "Coffee?"

"Coffee."

The air was still cold, but getting up and moving around would soon warm them up. Or so Heyes thought. He had stowed his bed roll, got the fire going and Kid had filled the coffee pot from a canteen and set it on the flames, yet when Heyes crouched down he still felt chilly. Stiffly he pulled his jacket closed across his chest, and wrapped his arms around himself. "Hmm. Temperature really dropped in the night."

"Yeah, always does up in the hills. But won't be long before it heats up again." Kid gave the sky a calculating look. "I reckon we're in for another warm one."

"Suits me." Heyes shrugged his shoulders up and down a few times to dispel the night's chill he still felt, wincing a little at the ache in his muscles. Kid saw the wince. "You okay?"

"Musta slept awkward." Heyes shrugged his shoulders again, less vigorously this time. "Feel kinda stiff. Nothin' a cup of coffee and getting riding won't cure."

They made a swift breakfast and packed up camp, then got underway again in the early morning cool. Kid rode in front to pick the trail, keeping a steady pace over the rocky ground. As the sun mounted Heyes at last felt himself began to warm up: before long he was able to shed his jacket and tie it behind his saddle. The headache stubbornly refused to go away, however. It dug in behind his forehead and sat there like a fist. He kept his hat pulled low over his eyes to shield them from the sun, hoping this would help. But after a while even the jolting motion of his horse began to jar him, sending dull throbs up his neck to join the headache already pounding there.

Kid pulled up his horse ahead, peering down a slope that lay before him. As Heyes drew level, he jerked his head at where the ground fell away in front of them. "I reckon that's our best way down off this ridge, but it's pretty steep. Reckon we should look for an easier spot?"

Heyes eyed the slope cautiously. "Hmm… 'Tis kinda vertical." He turned to his partner and gave him a grin. "But nothing worse than we've done before. Let's give it a try."

Kid met Heyes' grin with one of his own. "You first?" Heyes turned back to face the downhill slope. "Sure. Brains before beauty."

The steep slope was as tricky to negotiate on horseback as it had looked from above, loose scree and stones sliding under the horses' feet more than once. The two men had nearly reached the bottom when their luck gave out: Heyes' mount stumbled hard and almost fell, staggering sideways and letting out a shrill whinny. Caught off-balance, Heyes spilled from the saddle and landed on the ground, one hand still clutching the reins. The horse struggled back upright, pulling itself free: Heyes fell back onto his elbows and lay still for a moment, winded, as his mount started to descend the last few yards without him.

"I got it!" Kid spurred his own horse onwards, gaining the foot of the slope and closing on Heyes' recalcitrant mount. He snagged the reins and tugged it to a halt, then turned both horses around and looked back to the slope. Heyes had got to his feet and was descending unsteadily, his hat in his hand. As he drew closer he swatted dust from himself with the hat and peered at one elbow, where a hole had been ripped through his shirt.

"You okay?" Kid asked.

"Yeah…" Heyes pushed his hat back on his head, wincing, then shot his horse an irritated look. "How come I always end up with the one that can't stay on its feet?"

"Just lucky, I guess." Kid handed him the reins. As he did so he noticed the pallor of his partner's face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, no bones broken. Just knocked the wind outta me."

"Well, maybe we could take a break." Kid looked around the scrubby valley they'd descended into. "There's trees over there, could be some water for the horses. We could catch a siesta for a couple of hours over noon, then push on. Ain't like we're in any kind of hurry."

Heyes shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

They found a patch of scanty shade under some of the stunted trees, and made a temporary camp. A small, almost dried-up stream flowed between the rocks: Heyes led both horses to the water and let them drink. While the animals stood with lowered heads, he crouched down a little upstream and took off his hat. Sliding off his gloves, he reached up to his bandana and untied its knot. He shook the dust from it, sluiced it in the stream, then lifted to his face. The cool wet cloth felt good against his sweaty, dusty skin. Heyes kept it there a moment, then washed the bandana in the stream again; put it back against his face and shut his eyes. The headache pounded between his temples.

Kid called from where he was unpacking one of the saddlebags of food. "You want coffee, or just water?"

Heyes took the bandana away from his face and blinked. "Just water." He dipped the cloth in the stream one last time, wrung it out, then tied it back around his neck. Slowly he stood up and reached for the horses, quietly urging them away from the stream. He led them to the nearby trees and tethered them securely, then moved to where Kid was already sitting in the shade and starting on the noon meal.

"Here y'go." Kid passed bread and cheese across, with his jack knife. Heyes took the food unenthusiastically. He was more thirsty than hungry: the headache had killed his appetite. He cut himself a piece of bread and cheese and ate it deliberately, a mouthful at a time. When Kid offered him the bread a second time, he shook his head. "No, thanks."

Kid regarded him. "You sure you didn't land harder 'n you thought when you took that fall? You look a mite peaked."

"I'm okay, Kid." Heyes leaned back against the folded bedroll behind him. "Still got a headache, is all. Reckon it'll go away if I catch a nap for a coupla hours."

"Well, you're probably right. Couldn't do any harm, anyways." Kid watched as his friend settled back more comfortably and closed his eyes. Able to look at Heyes more closely now he was unobserved, Kid frowned a little: despite being in the shade for a while, Heyes' face was beaded with sweat. He made a mental note to keep an eye on his friend for the rest of the afternoon, then stretched out himself to get a siesta.

oooOOOooo

When Heyes woke, for a moment he had no idea where he was. His clothes stuck to him, slick with sweat: he stared straight up at gnarled tree branches against a bright blue sky, then blinked as the light sent an ache through his head. "Uhh…" The ground seemed to have developed sharp corners while he'd slept, bruising its way into his back and legs. Wincing, he slowly sat up. The movement made his head swim and for a moment the world seemed to rock around him. Swiftly he put a hand flat on the ground to steady himself, but the dizziness persisted. With sudden dismay he felt nausea grip his stomach, bringing sweat up cold on his face. He barely had time to get to his feet and stumble a few paces away before he had to bend double with one hand on a rock and throw up.

_Well, there goes breakfast and lunch,_ he thought hazily, trying to hold himself up with one shaking arm. His stomach twisted and he retched again, unable to hold it back.

"Heyes?" Dimly, he heard Kid's step behind him. Too dizzy to straighten up, Heyes rested his sweating forehead on the back of his wrist and tried to breathe shallow and slow. The pain in his head sharpened, almost forcing tears out from between his closed eyelids. He felt a touch on his back, careful. "You alright, partner?"

"Been - better - " Even getting these two words out proved dangerous: Heyes' stomach kicked again. He gulped for air, bracing his hand against the rock. After some moments had passed, Kid spoke again. "You done?"

"Mhm…" Heyes made a non-committal sound, his eyes still shut. He breathed shallowly through his nose; tried to swallow back the bitter taste in his mouth. At once his stomach rose again into his throat and he clung onto the rock as he threw up for a third time.

This time when it was over his head was spinning and there was a strange echoing sound in his ears. He stayed still with his head down, leaning against his forearm and breathing carefully through barely parted lips. His guts ached and he felt emptied out, both physically and mentally. He wasn't aware of how long he stood there bent over, but after some time he felt Kid give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Heyes? You hearin' me?"

"Mhm…"

"Think you'd better sit down. C'mon, I got you." Kid's arm tightened around his shoulders, supporting him as he slowly moved back towards upright. The world felt an unsteady place, and Heyes stumbled and would have fallen without his partner's guiding hands. "Okay, just here. Sit down slow." Heyes felt the support of a tree at his back as his legs folded under him. He let his head rest back against the rough bark and closed his eyes. "Just sit steady there a spell. I'll get you a drink of water." Kid's boots scraped the ground as he moved away, returning quickly. Heyes heard the slosh of water into a tin mug and managed to open his eyes again. Kid was crouching in front of him, his face concerned, lifting the cup of water towards his friend. "Think you can manage a sip or two?"

"…Sure…" Heyes wasn't sure that he could drink without unfortunate results, but he had to try. Shakily he lifted his hand and took the cup from Kid, then raised it to his lips. The cool liquid cut through the sour taste in his mouth: he swallowed it down, then waited a while for his unruly stomach to deal with it. A long pause; then he took another drink. His hand steadied somewhat. A third mouthful of water went down without incident and he let out a long breath. Setting the cup carefully down on the ground, he looked at Kid and managed a grin. "Whoa… That's better."

"Right." Kid's expression plainly showed he wasn't impressed by his friend's appearance. "You look lousy."

"You sure know how to… make a fella feel good about himself," Heyes countered feebly, taking another cautious swallow of water. Kid shook his head. "How long you been feeling this bad, Heyes?"

"Just since I woke up a minute ago." At Kid's lowering brows, Heyes capitulated slightly. "Well… Had the headache since yesterday evening. But I figured it was just the heat."

"Uh huh." Kid regarded his friend's pale, sweat-beaded face. "You look a mite feverish to me." He reached out and briefly touched his palm against Heyes' forehead, then took it away. "You're kinda warm."

"Kid, its high summer and we been riding out in it for two days." Heyes tried to make the problem go away by denial. "I just ate something that disagreed with me, most likely."

"Looks like a little more 'n that to me," insisted Kid. He rested back on his heels. "Maybe we'd better make camp here tonight, so you can rest up."

"There's no need," Heyes objected. "Think I'm startin' to feel a little better already." To prove his point he drained the mug of water, then set it down, looking at his friend. "I can sit a horse. Long as we don't have to head down any more hillsides like that last one, I'll be all right."

Kid regarded him steadily. After a long silence, he pursed his lips, then gave a reluctant shrug. "Okay. It's your call." He got to his feet, then outstretched a hand to help his friend up. Heyes grasped it and rose a little ungracefully, tottering for a moment as he got his balance. Steadying himself, he let go of Kid's hand and brushed himself down, before walking slowly to where his horse was tethered.

It took only a few minutes to load their gear back behind their saddles, and get underway again. It was harder to climb into his saddle than Heyes liked to admit, but he covered his struggle by waiting until Kid was busy with his own horse before mounting up. Once in the saddle and moving forward again, the air in his face made him feel a little better.

Setting the pace in front, Kid was not happy. He cast a glance back at his partner more than once, trying not to be too obvious about his concern. Heyes hated to be fussed over and Kid knew better than to argue with him when he wasn't feeling at his best… But he had a nagging feeling that his friend was feeling considerably worse than he was owning up to. Kid mentally calculated the distance they had yet to cover, chewing his lip. _Won't be able to set much of a pace unless he starts to feel better. So… we'll be ridin' the rest of today, make camp tonight; maybe be able to head on tomorrow… Or more likely spend a third night out here, before we can get underway to Lawton._ He wondered uneasily what they would do if Heyes took a turn for the worse._ Wish we'd stuck to the stage road… But there's no sense frettin' over what's done._

oooOOOooo 

They made slow progress down a rocky valley, finally gaining more level ground. To make life easier, Kid followed the course of the stream they'd stopped beside at noon, guessing correctly that it would lead them on the easiest route through the broken hillsides. After a couple of hours of steady riding he had almost started to relax a little, when a sound from behind made him turn in his saddle to glance back.

Heyes was dismounting, sliding to the ground where he leaned against his horse's side for a moment before turning away, his face a sickly white. He managed to walk only a few paces to one side before he bent over and vomited into the brush.

Kid turned his horse sharply and headed back, sliding out of his own saddle so that his feet touched the ground before the animal had stopped moving. "Heyes!" He advanced quickly to the suffering man. Heyes stood with his hands braced on his knees, head bent down. His teeth were set together and Kid could hear him drawing in a shivering breath. "Hey, partner," he said softly, taking hold of the sick man's shoulder. Heyes' eyes flickered open and he made an effort to stand upright: Kid steadied him. "Easy. Take it slow." He guided him to a nearby rock, then eased him down to a sitting position. "Just stay there."

Kid moved quickly to his horse and pulled out the water canteen, then quickly returned to Heyes' side. "Take a drink. Just sip it." He held the canteen for his friend. "Slowly." Heyes swallowed, shutting his eyes briefly, then looked up at Kid. There was no trace of the grin he'd conjured up earlier. "Thanks… Kid…"

"Don't mention it." Kid regarded him worriedly. "Y'know, Heyes, somehow I think you got somethin' more than just a belly ache or a touch of the sun. You're lookin' like death warmed up."

"Sure am… feeling pretty poor." Heyes' words were an understatement: the nausea had returned with a vengeance, and the pain in his head was a weight that threatened to rob him of the strength to keep upright. Aches shot through his back and legs as he sat unsteadily on the rock Kid had guided him to.

Kid shook his head. "I think we better find someplace for you to rest up, soon as we can." He glanced at the landscape unrolling ahead of them. "Might be there's a homesteader somewhere around here, even this far off the beaten track. There's water, and timber – someone might've settled hereabouts."

"That's kind of a long shot…" Heyes said faintly. Kid looked down at him.

"You got any better ideas?"

"No…" Heyes acknowledged his partner's pragmatism with a small shake of his head. "This time… it's your call, Kid."

"Right." Kid straightened up decisively. "Then that's what we're doin'. Think you can get back on your horse?"

"Yeah… I'll give it a try."

In fact it took several attempts for Heyes to remount, even with his friend's help. Once up on his horse he sat droop-shouldered, his hands managing to hold the reins but resting on the pommel of his saddle. Kid stood for a moment at his stirrup, looking up at him worriedly. "You sure you're up to this?"

"Sooner we get movin'… the sooner we can find somewhere to rest up." Heyes managed a smile that did little to transform his pale, sweating face. Kid held his gaze for a moment longer – then gave a nod and returned to his own horse.


	3. Chapter 3

**One Good Turn - Chapter Three**

The two outlaws made slow progress onwards, Kid dropping back to ride level with his friend as often as he could to keep a wary eye on him. Though Heyes made no complaint, Kid could tell he was feeling steadily worse. As the day lengthened into late afternoon, the dark-haired man sat hunched over the reins, his head bent forward: whenever his horse took an uneven step he swayed in the saddle.

_Just gotta keep going,_ Heyes told himself dully. _Nothing to it. Just stay sat on this horse, that's all I've gotta do._ The pain in his head made him want to close his eyes, but he forced himself to keep them open. _Don't think I'll get far with my eyes shut. Besides, someone's got to keep an eye on Kid. He's likely to worry himself ragged if I don't show him I'm gonna be okay._

Pains started to run through his arms and legs, joining up with the headache still pounding in his skull. Although the air was warm, he found himself caught in a bout of shivering. He clenched his hands on the pommel of his saddle, trying to hold himself steady: the shivers stopped, then a wave of heat brought the sweat out heavy on his skin, blotting his shirt to his ribs.

Suddenly the feeling in Heyes' hands was gone: he tried to grip the reins, but he couldn't feel his fingers any more. With an effort he lifted his head, looking to where Kid was riding a few yards ahead of him to his left. He thought he would call to him, but had no breath to do it with. Cold rushed up his spine and filled his head like smoke.

Heyes' horse let out a whinny, making Kid turn to look back over his shoulder. What he saw had him out of his saddle in an instant: Heyes was slumping forward over his horse's neck, starting a long slide off onto the ground. Kid managed to reach him just in time, catching the swooning man and holding him from falling any further. "Hold on, Heyes!" There was no answer from his friend. "Heyes, can you hear me?" Still nothing. With an effort Kid managed to haul Heyes back into the saddle, holding him balanced there. With his free hand he lifted Heyes' chin. "Talk to me, partner." At first there was no response. Then after a few long seconds, Heyes' eyes fluttered; his lips parted, then shut. "Come on, Heyes, don't give up on me now."

"…Mhh…" Heyes seemed to try to lift his head, but failed. "…K…Kid…"

"Yeah, I'm right here. Keep on talkin', partner." Kid pulled on the reins of his own horse, drawing it nearer. "You been so quiet back there I thought you was goin' to sleep." He looped the reins across the neck of Heyes' horse, then lifted his friend's foot free of the stirrup. "Hang on a moment, bud." Putting his own foot in the stirrup he swung up behind the semi-conscious man, reaching around his sides to take the reins. "Okay. Now we're set." He clicked his tongue and spurred the horses forward, steadying Heyes as they began to move. "You still with me, partner?"

"…Sure…" It was barely more than a breath. "…Wha… you doin'… Kid..?"

"Gettin' you to somewhere you can rest." Kid looked up at the sun, which was starting to move lower in the sky. _Before nightfall. Gotta get him under cover somewhere, and fast._

"…Don't reckon… can… go much… longer…"

"Well, you figure on quittin', go ahead," Kid replied shortly, tightening his hold on the reins. "Me, I plan on riding a while longer. So unless you get off this horse, guess you'll just be comin' with me." Heyes made no reply. "I gotta tell you, though, Heyes: I never had you figured for a quitter. Guess I shoulda seen it comin'."

"Ain't… quitting…"

"Well, kinda looks like it from where I'm sittin'." Kid kept talking, trying to keep his friend's attention focussed. "You did say you'd give it a try a while ago, but now here you are talkin' about givin' up. Seems like quittin' to me."

A sound that could have been a faint laugh came from Heyes. "How… far… you plan on… taking me..?"

"Till we reach someplace we can stop." Kid didn't elaborate.

"…Stop…" Heyes caught his breath, starting to shiver. Between chattering teeth, he managed to say, "…S…stop… here…"

"No, I don't think so." Kid set his jaw determinedly. "I reckon we can do better than this." _And I hope like hell that's the truth._

oooOOOooo

Making even slower progress now both were riding one horse, the two men wended slowly along the stream valley. The sun dropped out of sight behind the ridge and the air began to grow cooler: the bouts of shivering that shook Heyes became more frequent. Kid deliberated stopping and wrapping his sheepskin jacket around his partner, but decided to keep moving as long as they could. _Chances are he's not gonna be able to ride much further anyways. When he can't go on, I'll just have to keep him warm best I can. Build a good fire and get him wrapped in everything we got._ His thoughts ran ahead, calculating the daylight they had left. _Need to make camp; get a fire going; get some more water down him, even if it don't stay down long. Figure out what the hell to do next._

Heyes was scarcely aware of approaching nightfall. For the last few miles he'd lost the battle to keep his eyes open, letting himself be carried onwards in a swaying half-dream. He could feel the pressure of Kid's arms either side of his ribs, keeping him from falling; hear the quiet sounds of the horse stepping over the hard ground, the squeak of leather from the saddle. Waves of cold covered him like icy water, making him shiver until his teeth rattled: then heat would replace the cold.

Kid's voice. Kid was talking to him, sounding a long way off. Heyes forced himself to listen, to push back the feverish blur that the world was becoming. Gradually Kid's voice grew clear. "… a light, Heyes. See it? Just ahead there."

Heyes slowly opened his eyes. It was almost dark: night had fallen while he'd been slipping in and out of his fever dreams. He couldn't see anything. "…Nothing… there…"

"Sure there is." Kid spoke encouragingly. "A light, 'bout a half mile off I reckon." He was staring into the darkness, his eyes held by a small yellow glow in the distance. "Don't look like just a fire, neither."

"…Y'… seein'… things…"

"That's right, I'm seeing things. And what I'm seeing is a place we can get you fixed up."

As they rose closer, the glowing light became clearer, revealing itself as a lit window in the darker shape of a large cabin. A small area of land around the house had been cleared of brush, and a barn stood a little distance away.

When they were about a hundred yards from the house, the silent night suddenly exploded with noise: a dog appeared from the shadows, barking loudly. Kid held onto the horses, making soothing noises and trying to keep them steady as the barking dog ran up to them.

Light suddenly stretched across the ground as the cabin door opened: a silhouette stood in the doorway. "Who's out there? Speak up, or I'll shoot!"

"Hold your fire!" responded Kid instantly, raising his voice to be heard over the dog's noise. "We're not lookin' for trouble - I got a sick man here."

There was a pause, then the figure in the doorway spoke again. "How many of you?"

"Two. Me and my friend."

"What do you want?"

"We don't want no trouble. Just need a place for my sick friend here to rest up."

There was the rasp of a sulphur match, and a lantern flared into life. Its light revealed a woman, standing with the lantern raised in one hand and a shotgun supported in her other arm. She advanced slowly across the ground between the cabin and the horses. As she drew close the dog ceased barking, but still growled harshly. "Hush up, Rip!" At her sharp command the dog fell silent, but stood tense and ready for action.

The woman lifted the lantern towards the two men on the horse: she studied Kid silently. Then she turned her gaze to Heyes. She frowned. "This your sick friend?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's ailing him?"

"Don't rightly know, ma'am. He started feelin' ill a few hours back: got sick, then couldn't sit his horse. Said his head was achin', too."

"I got young 'uns." The woman eyed Heyes. "Can't risk bringin' sickness into my house."

"We won't be no trouble, ma'am." Kid spoke quickly. "If you don't want us in the house, we can lie up in your barn. I just want to get my friend somewheres under cover where he can lie down and rest."

Unexpectedly, Heyes managed to lift his head. He blinked in the lantern light, looking hazily down at the woman. "…Be much obliged… to you… ma'am…" Then a sudden bout of shivering gripped him, making him catch his breath.

The woman turned her head slightly then stepped in closer, scrutinising Heyes more closely. Then she looked up at Kid. "He been this way for long? Fever, then chills and shivering?"

"A few hours."

"You been through any low-lying land recent? Round about river bottoms or such?"

"Yes, ma'am… 'Bout a week ago."

The woman pursed her lips. "Couldn't swear to it, but looks like your friend here got himself a dose of fever and ague." At Kid's lack of comprehension, she added, "Marsh fever, some folks calls it."

"Ma'am?" Kid was no doctor, but anything with the word 'fever' attached to it was never good news. The woman regarded Heyes again. "Yep. Looks like it to me." She lowered the lantern and stepped back. "You'd best bring him inside."

"Into your house, ma'am?" Kid was thrown by her sudden change in attitude.

"He'll be better off in there than in the barn." She paused and gave him a quick look. "And marsh fever ain't catchin'. No danger to me or mine. But your friend there, likely he'll be plenty sick before he gets better." With that she turned and starting walking back to the cabin doorway. Over her shoulder she said, "You can hitch your horses up outside. Come in quiet, so's not to wake my children. Rip!" This last was a firm command to the guard dog, who gave Kid a long look then reluctantly followed his mistress.

After a moment's pause, Kid followed in the dog's wake, urging the horses forwards to the rail by the cabin doorway. After sliding carefully down to the ground he tethered both mounts, then he turned his attention to his friend. "Okay, partner: let's get you down. Take it slow."

Heyes half slid, half fell from the saddle: Kid caught him as his legs folded, pulling one of Heyes' arms across his own shoulders. "Whoa, buddy. Let's get inside before you lie down."

"…Uh… Didn't see… the ground there…"

"Right." Kid hitched Heyes' arm more firmly across his shoulders and began guiding him to the doorway. "Just a few steps further."

As they passed from the dark night into the interior of the cabin, the soft yellow light of an oil lamp made both men blink after the gloom outside. The cabin door led directly into a barely furnished room with a cookstove, a rough wooden table where the oil lamp stood and four battered chairs. A split board partition separated the room from the rest of the cabin.

The woman was standing by the table, next to where she'd set the lamp down. She still held the shotgun in the crook of her arm, her dark eyes watchful on the two men. As Kid paused with Heyes, she nodded at the chairs around the table. "He can sit there." As Kid eased his friend slowly down onto a chair Heyes gave a long breath out, resting his folded arms on the table. After a moment he made a visible effort: lifting his head, he managed to smile up at the woman.

"…Thank you… ma'am…" Sweat trickled down his face and his smile vanished, his eyes shutting as a fierce bout of shivering gripped him.

The woman regarded him soberly, then looked at Kid. She appeared to be considering something, her eyes travelling from him to Heyes. At last she spoke up. "Where you boys headin' to, way out here?"

"We was on our way to Lawton when my friend here got sick," said Kid. "We left Garnerville yesterday morning."

"Stage road runs between Garnerville and Lawton," commented the woman.

"Yeah, we started out on the road. But we figured we could cut a little time off our journey going cross country."

"Hmph." The woman looked at him. "And what was you doin' in Garnerville?"

"Sellin' cattle. My partner and me spent the last couple weeks rounding up strays, brought 'em in to Garnerville to find a buyer."

"Mm hm. And then you decided to head off to Lawton and spend your money?"

"Ma'am?" Kid was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the interrogation.

"You don't look like cowboys to me. And ain't nothin' in Lawton but bars, trashy women and gambling." She regarded them narrowly. "Which of them you figure on spendin' your time and money on?"

Before Kid could make the short reply which his temper was raising, Heyes managed to lift his head unsteadily again and speak up. "Ma'am… All we were planning was… a little hard-earned rest and relaxation… After a couple weeks' hard work."

"So you're a pair of drifters."

Kid answered her promptly. "Yes, ma'am." He hoped that by agreeing, this conversation might move quicker to a conclusion. His eyes dropped to the shotgun, still held firmly in the crook of her arm. Never comfortable around guns when they were pointing at him, Kid tried not to get twitchy. "Ma'am? Could I ask a favour?"

She frowned slightly. "What?"

"Would you mind settin' that shotgun down sometime soon? It's kinda… distracting, having it waving around in our direction."

"I don't know if I can trust you boys yet. And you're both armed." The woman's jaw tightened. "Think I'll just hold on to it for the time being."

At the table, Heyes moved. His hand went down to his gun, drawing it from the holster. Slowly he laid it on the table, then pushed it butt-first across the scarred wood. He turned his head and looked at Kid, the intent clear in his dark eyes. Kid was about to argue, but the pallor of his friend's face changed his mind. After only a second's hesitation, he removed his own weapon from its holster and laid it on the table next to his partner's. Heyes looked up at the woman. "Call that… a gesture of faith." His gaze was steady on her face. "And maybe… one gesture… deserves another."

There was a long pause. At last, the woman's arm relaxed. She lowered the shotgun, and leant it carefully against the wall. Deliberately, she leaned forward and picked the two guns off the table. She examined them carefully, then nodded. "All right." She looked back at the two men. "I'll hold on to these while you're here in my house, if that sits right with you. You'll get 'em back when you go on your way."

"Yes, ma'am." Kid assented, reluctantly. Unexpectedly, the woman smiled at him.

"Don't worry, son. You'll get your pretty pistol back. Ain't like I got any use for it." Turning away, she started to head through the doorway that led to the rest of the cabin, then paused. "I'll fix up a bed for your friend. You'll have to bunk down on the floor."

"That's no problem."

"You want to tell me your names?"

"I'm Thaddeus Jones, ma'am. My friend here's Joshua Smith."

"Mr Jones and Mr Smith." Her eyes regarded him sceptically for a moment, but she made no other comment. "Well, my name's Hannah Reed. Now we been properly introduced. You can call me Mrs Reed." With that, she stepped through the doorway and was gone. Kid heard her footsteps moving quietly away into the cabin. He let out a heavy breath.

"That is one tough lady."

"…She got you… comin' and goin'…" Sitting now with his aching head pillowed on his folded arms, Heyes sounded almost amused. Kid pulled out a chair and sat opposite him. "Well, for the time being she got both of us. And our guns."

"Relax, Kid… We'll get 'em back… You heard what she said."

"Yeah. I heard what she said." Kid took off his hat and laid it on the table. As he did so, Heyes shivered so hard the table shook under his arms. Kid looked at his white, sweating face with concern. "You gonna be okay, partner?"

"Uh huh… Just need to rest." Heyes wiped at the sweat around his mouth with one shaking hand, then shivered again. "Don't feel… so good now, though."

"You don't look too good, either." Kid leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. "Still, leastways we got a place to lie up in till you get to feeling better." Heyes made no reply. His eyes had closed again, and he sat with his head pillowed on his arms, breathing shallowly, as if he'd fallen into a doze.

Only a few minutes passed before footsteps signalled Mrs Reed's return. She entered the room and glanced down at Heyes, then across at Kid. "You can bring your friend through."

Kid rose and gently shook his friend by the shoulder. "Joshua. C'mon now." Heyes blinked his eyes open. Kid gestured at the doorway. "Lady's got a bed for you." He supported his friend with an arm around his shoulders again, guiding him carefully through the unfamiliar dimness of the darkened cabin beyond. Mrs Reed led the way with an oil lamp, through a larger room with an open fireplace flanked by some chairs, then to another doorway. She pushed the door ajar to reveal a bed with its covers neatly turned back. On the floor against one wall, another makeshift sleeping space had been made up with blankets and a pillow. She gestured at it. "That's for you."

"Thank you, ma'am. Mighty grateful for all of this," said Kid, gently lowering Heyes to sit on the edge of the bed. Mrs Reed nodded. "Best you get him under them covers directly. I'll make him something to drink, might help to ease the fever some." With that she left them alone in the room, leaving the oil lantern on a small shelf that hung in one corner.

Kid crouched on the floor and began to take Heyes' boots off, guessing rightly that his partner was too exhausted to manage them himself. Heyes managed to take off his own jacket and shirt, fingers fumbling with buttons: several times he had to pause and steady himself with both hands against the mattress. At last, with Kid's help, he had stripped to his long johns and henley: wearily he laid down on the bed as Kid pulled the blankets up around him. Kid straightened up and looked down at his partner. Heyes lay limp as if already asleep, his face sickly pale in the dim light. Kid spoke quietly. "You be all right if I let you alone a coupla minutes? To tend the horses?"

"Sure…" Heyes' reply was scarcely more than a breath. "Not… going anywhere…"

"I'll be right back." With a backwards glance, Kid headed out of the room and back through the cabin.

He found Mrs Reed standing over a saucepan of something steaming on the stove, which gave off a bitter scent. She turned as he entered, a questioning expression on her face. Kid nodded at the door which led to outside. "Figure I'd tend to our horses, ma'am. They've had a long hard day too."

"Surely." She turned back to the stove, stirring the contents of the pan. "You can put 'em in the barn, next to ourn. There's water and hay in there. Best take a lantern with you."

Outside in the barn, Kid removed the horses' saddles and gear; briefly rubbed the animals down, then made sure they could reach water and food before leaving them in the darkness. As he recrossed the yard to the cabin, he heard coming from the shadows the quiet growl of Rip the guard dog; but evidently the animal had already understood that his mistress didn't want these strangers chasing away just yet. Kid opened the cabin door and stepped back inside, blowing out the candle lantern he'd taken with him to the barn as he did so.

Mrs Reed was pouring the contents of the pan into a tin mug, straining out a bundle of what looked like shredded leaves as she did so. The bitter smell was stronger than ever: Kid sniffed inadvertently, his brows drawing down. Mrs Reed looked up at him. "Don't smell too sweet. Nor taste it, neither. But it'll help your friend a little, if we get it down him."

Kid followed her back to the small bedroom, silently doubting even this tough little woman's ability to get Heyes to swallow anything he didn't want to. When they reached the bed Heyes lay as Kid had left him, his hair slicked dark across his forehead with sweat. Mrs Reed fetched up the stool and sat herself down beside him, then laid her hand on his arm. At once Heyes' eyes flew open, flaring wide with confusion until they gradually took in the room, the woman, and Kid standing behind her.

"Well, Mr Smith," said Mrs Reed briskly. "I've a tea here for you to drink, that'll help to fix what's ailin' you. You just set up a little and I'll hold the cup, whiles you sip it down." Heyes complied, unsteadily pushing himself upright to sit leaning against the wall as Mrs Reed raised the mug of medicinal brew. At the first mouthful Heyes grimaced at the strong taste, and he drew his head back reflexively. Mrs Reed shook her head. "Now, it ain't that bad." Heyes swallowed the herbal tea down, his mouth twisting at the bitterness. "Bad – enough - "

"You're a growed man. You act like one." Mrs Reed spoke firmly, lifting the cup again. Heyes' eyes flinched as he took another mouthful, but unable to evade the determined woman he was forced to finish the cup to its bitter dregs. As she nodded with satisfaction, Heyes' eyes found his partner leaning against the opposite wall, the Kid smiling wryly at his friend's ordeal.

"That'll do, for now." Mrs Reed refilled the mug, this time with plain water from a pitcher beside the bed, and held it for Heyes so that he could take a cool drink and wash some of the taste in his mouth away. "Get some a this water inside you, then you're best jus' to sleep. Could be you'll feel a little better come morning."

"Thank you…" Heyes hadn't appreciated the foul herbal brew, but he appreciated the intent behind it. His stomach wasn't sitting too easy under what he'd just swallowed, but he forced himself to breathe steady and slow.

Mrs Reed stood up. "I'll leave you boys to bed down for the night. Pot's under the bed. You need anything, I'll be in with my young 'uns in the other back room." She nodded at them both. "Good night."

"Good night, ma'am. And thank you." Kid gave her a sincere smile. She hesitated, then turned away, softly closing the door behind her as she exited the room.

Kid let out a long breath, looking at the door. Then he turned and regarded his partner. Heyes had shut his eyes again and was lying still in the bed, the covers barely lifting over his chest as he breathed. "Heyes?" Kid spoke softly. "You asleep?"

"…Mm hmm…" Heyes' eyes stayed shut.

"Okay. Get some rest now. I'll be right here, you need water or anythin'." Kid undressed, blew out the lamp, crawled into the bedding on the floor and lay down. As soon as his head rested on the pillow, weariness poured over him in a tide. It had been a long, trying day.

oooOOOooo

_**Historical note:**_

_Fever and Ague, or Marsh Fever, were names used for the dreaded disease Malaria. Malaria is now a disease we associate largely with the tropics, but in the 19th century it was widespread across northern America and areas of Europe, including the UK. During the American Civil War, approximately 50% of white soldiers and 80% of black soldiers suffered from malaria._

_Malaria is caused by a parasite, which is transmitted to humans when they are bitten by the Anopheles mosquito. Once a person's blood has been infected by a mosquito passing on the parasite, it can take between 10 – 14 days for symptoms of the illness to appear. These symptoms can vary but usually include high fever with delirium, chills with violent shivering, sweating, sickness, headaches and flu-like pains. Attacks of symptoms can occur several times in a 24-hour period and will return daily: if untreated, the illness may gradually diminish over a 2 – 3 week period as the person's immune system deals with the parasite. Or alternatively, serious (and often fatal) complications may set in: severe anaemia, jaundice, pneumonia, meningitis, convulsions and coma._

_The treatment of malaria was revolutionised with the introduction of quinine (made from the bark of the south American cinchona tree). __D__uring World War Two, over 60,000 American soldiers died from malaria, because Allied troops did not have access to the world's supply of quinine. As a result of this, scientists Robert Woodward and William Doering began experimenting on making artificial quinine: in 1944 they succeeded, signaling the birth of organic chemistry.__ Even today malaria is a very serious disease, killing more than a million people worldwide every year__._


	4. Chapter 4

**One Good Turn - Chapter Four**

_Heyes stood trapped in darkness, swirling smoke surrounding him; smoke shot through with the dull red glare of flames, crackling wicked and unstoppable as they burned all around. The heat was unbearable, scorching his skin, choking at his throat as he tried to fight his way out, tried to find a path through the fire. He had to get through the flames, find a way out, but there was no time. As the smoke thickened and the heat washed over him like a burning river he cried out, screaming into the choking red darkness._

A hand gripped his arm in the dark, tightening on his wrist, pulling him back. A voice answered his cry, close and urgent. "Heyes! Heyes! Wake up!"

The red flickering of the flames were gone: it was dark and he was lying down, drowning in heat. Blankets lay over his legs and chest, heavy and smothering; he tried to sit up, to push them away, and felt a grip on his arm. "Heyes, take it easy!" It was Kid's voice, a forceful whisper in the darkness. "Hold up a moment – let me light the lamp."

A scratch and flare of a match made a flickering light that steadied as it touched the wick of an oil lamp, revealing Kid barefoot in his undershirt and drawers, standing by the wall. He carefully lowered the lamp's glass shade and adjusted the wick, steadying the flame, then turned and moved back to the side of the bed. "Okay, that's better." He looked concernedly down at Heyes. "Thought you'd wake the whole house up, hollerin' like that."

"I was hollerin'?…" asked Heyes muzzily, blinking in the lamplight. His eyes ached.

"Yeah. Loud enough they probably heard it in the next county."

"There was… a fire…"

"There ain't no fire." Kid regarded him soberly. "You was just dreamin'." Heyes frowned, then began to push back the bedclothes. Kid laid a restraining hand on him. "Heyes, what're you doing?"

"…Too darn hot…" Heyes tugged peevishly at the blankets. He could feel sweat soaking his clothes, soaking the sheet around him. "Need to… cool down…"

"Wait up and I'll get you a drink of water," said Kid. He got up and crossed to the pitcher in the corner, filled the tin mug and brought it back to the bed. Heyes was struggling to sit up, the bedclothes slipping down around his waist. Kid laid a hand on his shoulder. "Heyes, just lay still a moment."

"Jus'… need a breath of fresh air…" Heyes seemed to be trying to swing his legs out of bed, but he was so unsteady he almost pitched himself out headfirst. Kid caught him and hauled him back against the pillow. "Whoa, partner – you ain't going nowhere."

"Let me… out…" Heyes feebly resisted his friend's attempt to pull the covers back up over him, but was unsuccessful against Kid's determined efforts. "…Damnit… Kid…"

"You can cuss me all you like, but you're stayin' in that bed." Kid lifted the mug of water. "Here, take a drink. It'll help cool you down." He steadied the cup as Heyes swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, but that was all his friend would take. "C'mon, Heyes, just a little more."

"…No…" Heyes shook his head, his mouth setting stubbornly. "Ain't thirsty…"

Kid sighed. Setting down the mug, he regarded his friend. Heyes' hair was darkened with sweat, his face leached of colour. But as ill as he was, his mule-headedness was unchanged. "Okay. Maybe you'll feel like some more in a little while."

The only response from Heyes was a faint sound of dissent. His eyelids were already drooping: exhausted from the brief tussle with Kid, he was slipping back into fever dreams. Kid watched him for a while, until he was sure his friend wasn't going to rouse up again. Then he got up and blew out the lamp, before lying back down to try to get a few more hours' sleep.

oooOOOooo

Kid woke up: his eyes opened quickly, to stare at an unfamiliar door set in a bare wooden wall. For a moment he regarded it, frowning; then he sat up, blankets slipping down his body to the floor.

The room was no longer dark: growing daylight had crept in while he slept, penetrating the thin curtain which covered a window in the opposite wall. Below the window Heyes lay stretched out on the bed, lying still under tangled covers.

Kid pushed himself up off the floor, wincing briefly and rubbing at an ache in his hip; pulled on his trousers, then moved over to the bed. He looked down at his friend. Heyes seemed to be asleep, but his sweat-darkened hair and shallow breathing showed that the fever was still burning in him. Kid let out a heavy breath, pulling a glum face, then reached down and tried to straighten up the bedcovers. Heyes twitched and muttered, his head moving restlessly on the pillow. His eyes flickered open, looked unfocusedly up for a few moments, then hazily rested on Kid. His lips parted and he tried to speak, but could only let out a dry cough.

"Wait – I'll get you some water." Kid turned and fetched a mug of water, returning to sit on the edge of the bed. He held the cup to his friend's lips, helping him to raise up enough to drink. Heyes managed to swallow a few sips before Kid let him lay his head back against the pillow. For a moment he lay still with eyes closed, as if summoning his strength; then he opened them and looked up at Kid. "Thanks…" His voice was little more than a whisper.

"No problem." Kid tried to smile encouragingly, concealing the concern he felt. With his arm around Heyes' shoulders as he'd supported his friend to drink, he'd felt the heat of the fever burning through the sick man's undershirt. "You managed to sleep some. That's good."

Heyes made a sound of assent, his eyes already closing again. Kid stood up and reached for his shirt. "Looks like morning." He drew his shirt over his head, then pulled on his boots. "I'd better go see the lady of the house." This produced no response. Kid frowned, then opened the bedroom door and headed into the cabin.

The room beyond was empty, but quiet sounds of voices came from the doorway in the partition ahead. Kid stepped through and into the kitchen with the cookstove. Seated at the table two children, a girl in her early teens and a boy a little younger, looked up at him over plates of oatmeal, their eyes widening. At the cookstove Mrs Reed turned around, and gave him an acknowledging nod. "Mornin', Mr Jones."

"Mornin', ma'am." Kid felt more than a little awkward under the stares of the two children. He hovered in the doorway for a moment until Mrs Reed spoke again, turning back to stir a pot on the stove. "Sit y'rself down. There's coffee just brewin'."

"Thank you, ma'am." Kid paused, considering where to sit at the table, and settled for the chair opposite the boy. Like his sister he was dark haired and narrow-framed, wiry and tanned by the sun. As Kid drew in his chair the boy regarded him carefully, then shot a glance at his sister. She had already lowered her eyes and returned to her breakfast, although Kid caught her stealing a quick sidelong glance at him.

Mrs Reed sat down, setting a coffee pot on the table. She poured cups for herself and Kid, and milk for the two children. As she pushed their mugs across to them she said, "These here are my young 'uns, Ginny and Will." The children looked up at their names, and murmured a more or less synchronised, "Good morning, Mr Jones."

"Morning." Kid smiled, nodding a greeting: the children met his eyes for a moment, glanced at their mother, then returned their attention to their breakfast.

"Got some biscuits and gravy doin'," said Mrs Reed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Your friend up to eating anything, you reckon?"

"Uh, no, ma'am. He still seems in a pretty bad way."

"Mhmm." She nodded. "I got some more fever tea brewin' for him. But could be he'll need a doctor to take a look at him."

"A doctor?" Kid paused, with his coffee halfway to his lips.

"There's one in Lawton, but that's somethin' of a ride there and back... And no guarantee the doc'd be in town when you got there." Kid frowned. "Course, there's always Asa Lee."

"Asa Lee?"

Mrs Reed got up from the table to attend to the stove. "Got hisself a place out back here in the hills, same as us. He ain't no book-learned doctor, but he's treated folks good. Got my kids through the diptheria a whiles back when I thought maybe I was gonna lose 'em both."

"How far away does he live?" asked Kid.

"Three, mebbe four hours' ride, if'n you know the way."

Kid looked down at the table, frowning in thought. _If I ride out to fetch this Asa Lee, I'd be leaving Heyes here for the best part of the day. No knowing if he'd take a turn for the worse while I was gone… And what he might start talking about while he's feverish._ His natural caution made him edgy at the thought of leaving his partner unguarded and vulnerable. _It ain't that I don't trust her… But maybe it's too big a risk to take._

As if reading his thoughts, Mrs Reed spoke again. "Now, I reckon you don't want to go off and leave your friend. But my boy could ride on out to Asa's place for you." Will looked up at his mother, interest brightening his face.

Kid felt relief at not having to make a difficult decision. "Well… That'd be real good, ma'am – if you're sure that'd be alright?"

"Won't be no trouble," said Mrs Reed. "Will, you finish up your breakfast then go saddle up Esther. Ginny'll do your field chores just this once."

Will fell to spooning down his oatmeal hastily, as if fearful his mother might change her mind. At the end of the table Ginny looked less than happy at the turn of events, but at her mother's look she too turned her attention back to her breakfast.

oooOOOooo

Soon the meal was over and cleared away: after checking on Heyes, who was still in a restless doze, Kid headed out to the barn to tend to their horses. As he walked across the yard he saw Ginny, encumbered with a dish of food scraps and an obviously heavy bucket, struggling with the latch on a rickety pen that held a dozen long-legged chickens scratching in the dirt. Kid headed over and lifted the stubborn latch, holding the pen gate open for the girl to duck inside. She scattered the scraps of food amongst the rushing chickens, filled a low pan with water from her bucket, then stepped back out into the yard. Kid shut the pen gate and latched it securely, smiling at her. She pushed her hair out of her face, hefting the now-empty bucket in one hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Kind of a tricky job to do one-handed."

"Don't want them gettin' out, is all. They go every which way, and if you don't get them back by nightfall the coyotes get 'em."

"I bet they do." Kid smiled again. "Feeding the chickens used to be my job, once upon a time. That and findin' the eggs. Never could tell where I'd have to look for them… Those hens used to lay up in the strangest of places."

"Yeah." The girl nodded in agreement, then shot him a look. "You had a farm?"

"Grew up on one. Well, mostly." Kid nodded at the barn. "I best go feed and water our horses." He started walking, and Ginny fell into step alongside him.

"Was your farm round these parts, or somewheres else?"

"Kansas." Kid found the girl's interest somehow touching: under her front of teenage aloofness, there was a lonely child trying to get out.

"What all did you have on your farm?"

"A few cattle. Horses. Crops." Kid smiled. "And chickens."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Well, now." Kid paused before the open barn door, glancing down the girl. "That's a long story… But I guess, because of the war."

"Uh huh." Ginny nodded with a look of understanding. "My daddy fought in the war. Then after, he and my ma moved out west. That was 'fore me and Will got born."

Kid refrained from asking what side her father had fought for, partly because he understood from bitter experience that for many people the old allegiances ran deep… But mainly because he just didn't want to know. _Never made a bit of difference whose flag they said they were marching under,_ he thought. _Not to the folks caught in the middle._

They went inside the barn. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Kid saw that the manger beside his and Heyes' horses had already been filled with hay, and the trough was brimming with water. Not far away, Will was standing next to a sturdy old mare, fitting on her harness.

Kid stopped by the horses' stall, leaning an elbow on it. "Well, I came out to see to our horses, but it looks like someone already took care of it."

Will looked up from the mare and gave a quick, shy grin. "Aw… I had to water an' feed Esther, anyways. Jus' as easy to do yourn while I was doin' it." He shot a glance at his sister. "Ain't had time to rake out the stalls, though."

Ginny snorted. "Figures." She moved to a heavy wooden rake set against the wall. Kid stepped across and picked it up: she paused, looking at him in surprise. Kid nodded at the stalls. "Seems only fair I trade you some of my time. I'll clear them out, if you want to pitch down fresh bedding." After a moment's pause, Ginny nodded. Tucking up her skirts she climbed up into the hayloft, as Kid set about raking out the dirty straw.

With the two of them at work, the job was soon done. Kid gave his horse a parting slap on the flank, then headed out of the barn with Ginny. Across the yard by the cabin Will was already sitting astride the big old bay mare, his mother standing beside them. They turned to Kid as he and Ginny walked up. Kid came to a halt and looked up at the dark-haired boy, then at his mother. "I'm real grateful for this, Mrs Reed."

"Tain't nothin'." She turned her gaze on her son. "Now you mind what I said. Don't go racin' her on the flat ground. She'll get you there quicker if you take it at a steady pace. You got water and vittles?"

"Yes, ma." Will's free hand moved to touch on the leather satchel that he'd slung across his back.

Mrs Reed nodded. "Likely Asa'll be at home or somewheres nearabouts if you get there by noon. You don't see him, you just set on his porch and he'll be along. Tell him we got a sick man here needs his help, likely got the marsh fever."

"Tell him I can pay him for any help he gives us," interjected Kid. Will shot him a startled look, then looked at his mother. Mrs Reed paused, then gave a nod. "Won't make no difference to Asa Lee whether he gets paid or not," she said. "But it wouldn't hurt."

"Yes, ma."

"Alright now, get along. You come back with Asa soon as you can. If he ain't home at noon, you just set there till he comes. He'll be back before sundown if he's out checkin' his trap lines. If needs be, you stay there the night with him and come back tomorrow mornin'. Don't you be ridin' Esther over them rocks in the dark."

"No, ma. I won't." Will gathered up the reins, and urged the mare forwards into a slow trot. They watched him go, Mrs Reed shading her eyes against the low morning sun with one hand. She waited until he was out of sight before turning away. "Alright, Ginny. You done with the stock in the barn?"

"Yes, ma."

"You get on waterin' the tomatoes and greens, then you can be hoein' the wheat."

"Yes, ma." Ginny turned away and headed to the pump, carrying her bucket. Mrs Reed turned on her heel and started towards the cabin doorway. "Guess we'd better take a look at your friend, Mr Jones." Kid followed her, catching her up in time to open the cabin door and hold it for her. She gave him a considering look, then stepped inside.

"Your children are both pretty handy about the place," said Kid once they were inside. "Hard working."

"Place like this, it's shift or go starve," Mrs Reed answered him. She moved to the stove, where a covered pot was simmering. "They done good, for all they're young yet. Not like they had much of a choice, though." There was no hint of self-pity in the tone, but Kid heard more than her words gave away. He watched as she lifted the pot lid and stirred the simmering contents, releasing a bitter smell akin to the one she'd brewed the night before.

"Your daughter said you moved out west with your husband a while ago. After the war."

"We did." She stirred the pot slowly.

"Must've been hard, settin' up home out here."

"No harder 'n what we'd been through before that." She turned with one hand on her hip, the other holding the wooden spoon she'd been stirring with. "Pass me that cup off the table."

Kid did so, silently debating whether to continue trying to make conversation or let it drop. In the end he held his peace, watching as the woman took the pot off the stove and carefully filled the tin mug with the herbal brew. She picked it up, then headed to the gap in the partition. "Let's see if we can get your friend to swallow this down."

Heyes still lay apparently sunk in sleep when they came into the bedroom. Mrs Reed moved to the window and drew back the thin curtain, letting in the daylight. As it fell across Heyes' face Kid got a good look for the first time at just how sick his friend was. Sweat beaded on Heyes' skin and plastered his hair against his forehead: his pallor was only relieved by dark shadows under his eyes.

Mrs Reed sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the cup of herbal brew. "You want to rouse him up?"

Kid bent over and laid his hand on Heyes' arm where it rested on top of the covers: beneath his fingers, he felt the heat of his partner's fever. He gave it a gentle shake. "Joshua." Heyes' eyebrows kinked momentarily, but he made no other sign of hearing. Kid shook him again. "Joshua. Wake up."

Slowly, Heyes part-way opened his eyes. He looked up at Kid, but said nothing. Kid tried a cheerful smile. "Mrs Reed here's got something to drink that'll fix you right up. I'll help you sit up so's you can take it."

"…Mnhh…" Heyes turned his head to one side, shutting his eyes again. "…Not… thirsty…"

"C'mon, partner. It won't take long." Kid bent down and slid his arm along his friend's shoulders. The cloth against his skin felt damp with sweat as he raised Heyes up a little. Mrs Reed raised the cup. "Now, Mr Smith. The quicker you drink this down, the quicker you can get back to sleep." She steadied his head as she put the cup to his lips. Heyes' eyes flickered open as he got the first mouthful; he swallowed it, but tried to turn his head to one side. Mrs Reed was having no nonsense: firmly she turned his head back, and raised the cup again. "You get this down you, mister. I've dosed my young 'uns often enough when they was ailing, and I ain't failed to get 'em to swallow somethin' yet."

Whether it was the woman's tone of voice, her determined grip, or just that he was too weak to argue, Heyes managed to drain the cup. When it was empty, Kid let his friend lay back against the pillow and drew the blankets back up to cover his chest. Mrs Reed rose and moved to the doorway. "Oughta help him a little. I'll be out back, fillin' the woodbox." Then she left the room.

Kid watched her go, then turned back to look at his friend. As he watched, Heyes opened his eyes. Kid smiled a small smile at him. "Hey. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Heyes let out a breath that might have been a laugh or a sigh. He turned his head slowly on the pillow. "…Kid?.."

"Yeah?"

"Where… are we?…"

Kid rested his hand on Heyes' shoulder. "We're okay. That lady, Mrs Reed, this is her place. We got here last night, don't you remember?"

"…Last night?…" A brief frown drew Heyes' brows together. "…S'it… mornin'?…"

"Yeah, partner. See the daylight?"

"…We in… Lawton?…"

"No." Kid bent over his friend, seeing the confusion in his fever-hazed mind. "We didn't get that far. You started getting sick yesterday, so we stopped off here."

"…Uh…" Heyes winced, as though in pain.

"You okay?" Kid touched him on the shoulder again.

"…Umhh…" Heyes half-opened his eyes. "… Achin'… all over… Like a horse… trampled me…"

"You'll start feeling better real soon." Kid tried his best to sound like he meant it. "Sent for a doctor, he'll be here in a while. If you ain't on the mend by then, he'll fix you up."

"Mhm…" Heyes closed his eyes again, sweat running down the sides of his face. Kid watched him for a moment. He hated to see his friend suffering, but he hated more feeling so helpless to do anything about it. "You want a drink of water?"

"…No…" Heyes' reply was barely audible.

"Okay." Kid stood up. "I'll just be outside, but I'll keep checkin' in on you. You need anything, you holler." As he said this last he doubted if Heyes was up to calling out, but it was said to reassure him more than anything. With a last backward look, he left his partner to rest.

oooOOOooo

Kid headed out of the cabin and followed the sound of wood being chopped, around to a lean-to out the back. Standing over a scarred chopping block made from a wide cross-section of tree trunk, Mrs Reed was just lifting an axe. Kid stood still and waited as she swung the heavy blade down, neatly splitting the log that stood on end on the block. As the pieces clattered to the floor Mrs Reed drew back the axe and rested its head on the ground, reaching to set another log on the block. Kid stepped forward. "I'd be glad to do that for you, ma'am."

"Been doin' it myself for a good long while," she said shortly, hefting the axe up again. With a grunt of effort she swung the blade down, splitting the second log. Kid nodded. "I can see that. You're doin' a fine job. But if my friend and me have to stay here a few days we're gonna be beholden to you. Now, we got some money - "

"Don't want none of your money," said Mrs Reed, picking up a third log.

"I figured you might say that," answered Kid. "But I also figure we owe you, and I ain't comfortable owin' anybody anything. So if you'd let me lend a hand around the place while we're here, I'd take it kindly."

The woman leaned on the handle of her axe and regarded him steadily. "You're a puzzlin' man, Mr Jones."

"Ma'am?"

"You and your friend show up outta nowhere, lookin' like drifters. You been herdin' cattle, but you ain't cowboys. You say you're on your way to Lawton, and there's only no-account gamblers and saloon rats got business there. But you act like you was brought-up decent." She shook her head. "Gets me to wonderin' just what kinda men you and your friend are."

Kid let a smile lift one corner of his mouth, though the tenor of her questions was making him feel uneasy. "Well, I can promise you we won't be any trouble to you and your family, if it makes you feel any better."

"Uh huh." Mrs Reed nodded slowly. "Maybe."

Kid gestured at the axe. "Meantime, how about lettin' me split some wood for you?"

After a moment's pause, the woman stepped away from the block. Kid took the axe and set a log in front of himself, then swung the axe down. With scarcely a pause he took another log and split it. Mrs Reed stood a little to one side, watching him. After a while she said, "If you split a couple barrowloads, then bring 'em round to the kitchen, that'll do just fine."

"Yes – ma'am - " Kid spoke between grunts of effort as he swung the axe. Mrs Reed turned on her heel and headed away.

oooOOOooo

Some time later, Kid wheeled the barrow stacked full of wood round to the cabin door, then picked up an armful and headed inside. The kitchen was empty, so he stacked the wood next to the cookstove and headed out to split another load. After some time the job was done: he brushed wood chips from his shirt, and decided to check on his partner.

Pushing the bedroom door quietly open, he was surprised to see Mrs Reed sitting beside the bed. She had a basin of water at her feet and held a damp cloth in her hand: as he watched, she wrung the cloth out and spread it across Heyes' forehead. The feverish man stirred slightly, muttering, but did not rouse.

Kid came fully into the room. "How's he doing?"

"Got a pretty high fever." Mrs Reed sounded matter-of-fact, but when her hand smoothed down the covers over Heyes' chest it was gentle. Kid moved to stand at the end of the bed, his gaze resting on his friend. _I've seen you wounded and I've seen you sick before, partner. And it don't get any easier._

"How long you boys been riding together?" Mrs Reed's voice broke in on his thoughts. He looked across at her. "Uh… A few years, ma'am."

"You been drifters all that time? Never settled down any place?"

"Not for long." Kid assumed the deadpan expression he kept for awkward questions. "We can turn our hand to most things; couple of fellas like us can always find some kinda work. We get by."

"Got no kin?"

"No, ma'am. Neither of us." Kid paused, then decided to try to change the subject. "You said you reckoned my friend's got marsh fever. You seen folks sick with it before?"

"Sure have. More'n once." Mrs Reed looked at him. "Like I said, it seems to come from low-lying land. Folks that settle too near rivers or ponds and suchlike, they can come down with it reg'lar. We lived a spell in Arkansas, saw it plenty. Folks there catch it from the cradle. Seems like they gets hardened to it after a while: by the time a man's growed, he still gets the fever and shiverin' fits time to time, but they don't seem to hit most people as hard if they had it since they was a child."

"How bad does it get?" asked Kid.

"Can get pretty bad." The woman looked to where Heyes lay, then back to Kid. "I ain't gonna tell you no lies, Mr Jones. I seen folks mighty sick with it. Seen some die of it. But your friend here's in the best place he can be for now, and he couldn't have a better man lookin' to him than Asa Lee, when he comes."

"That's good." Kid tried to put as much faith in this unknown man as Mrs Reed did. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again. "Mrs Reed… I do appreciate all you're doin' to help us. And I know my partner'd say the same thing, if he was feelin' up to it."

The woman shrugged her thin shoulders. "Folks got to help each other. People're pretty few and far between out here, and more'n a few are nothing but no-good coyotes." She spoke with an edge to her tone. Kid nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I know what you mean. But all the same, I'd like to thank you for lettin' us into your home and helpin' to care for my friend. I was runnin' out of ideas when I saw the light in your window last night." The woman merely nodded in reply. Kid continued, "Ain't so many people would let strangers in, especially after dark. And you gave up your bed for us, too."

"There's room enough for me to sleep with the children," said Mrs Reed. "Wouldn't have a sick man sleep on the floor in my house."

"Well, thank you again." Kid could see that the proud woman was pleased by his gratitude, despite her words. She reached out and took the cloth from Heyes' forehead, dipped it into the basin of water, wrung it out and replaced it. Without looking up again she said quietly, "My girl's out in the back field tendin' the crops. I was goin' out to work alongside her, but if you don't mind lendin' her a hand instead of me, I can sit with your friend here."

"I'd be pleased to, ma'am." Kid straightened up. Casting a last look at Heyes, he turned and left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**One Good Turn - Chapter Five**

Outside the bright sunlight felt warm on Kid's face as he walked out to where Ginny was working at her chores, tending to the farm's crops. As he drew near he saw the girl watering bushy green plants, holding a heavy bucket with both hands. The stream of water slowed to a trickle then gave out: Ginny set the empty bucket on the ground and wiped her hair from her face, leaving a smudge of dirt behind. At the sound of his footsteps she looked up, surprised.

Kid smiled at her. "Need a hand there?" At her involuntary glance towards the cabin, Kid gestured towards it with his thumb. "Your mother's takin' care of my friend, so I said I'd help you out." He reached down and picked up the empty bucket. "You waterin' all these rows?"

"Yeah. I done the first couple, an' almost half of this one." Ginny turned away. "Wait, I got another pail back there." She ran down the row, disappearing behind the plants: in a moment she reappeared with another bucket. The two of them fell into step, heading back to the well near the house to fetch more water. As they walked, Ginny said, "Is your friend okay?"

"Well, he's pretty sick. But I hope he'll get to feeling better soon." Kid sounded more cheerful than he felt. "He's been sick before… We both have, come to that. But he's tough. He'll pull through."

"Asa's good at healin' folks." Ginny sounded hopeful. "Me and Will, we was real sick a couple years back, and he made us better. Ma said we wouldn't have pulled through without him."

"Sounds like a good man to have as a neighbour."

"He is. Asa's real nice. Talks to me like I'm growed up." She shot a sideways glance at him. "Like you do."

"Well now, you are pretty much growed up, aren't you?" Kid smiled at her. Ginny got a little pink in the face. Kid gave her a moment to recover, then went on, "Must be good for your mother, to have a neighbour she can rely on. Can't be easy for the three of you out here alone."

"We get on okay." Ginny's chin lifted determinedly, and for a moment the resemblance between her and her mother was striking. "Folks said ma wouldn't ever run this place after my daddy died… But they was wrong."

"How long ago did you lose your father?" asked Kid gently.

"Three years back." Ginny lowered her head a little. "He got the pneumonia. My ma and Asa nursed him for two weeks, but he never got better."

"I'm real sorry." Kid looked at the girl's down-turned head. _She would've been about the same age as me and Heyes were, when we lost our folks._ "I bet your father was a fine man."

"Yeah."

"Y'know… I lost my folks when I was young, too." Ginny looked up at him. "It's real tough. But at least you and Will and your ma are still together."

"Uh huh." She regarded him with curiosity. "How did you lose your folks?"

"In the war," replied Kid, cautiously.

"How old was you?"

"Oh, 'bout eleven, twelve years old."

"Did you have brothers and sisters?"

"Lost my two brothers a whiles before that." Kid didn't elaborate.

"What did you do? When you lost your ma and pa?"

"Went to live somewheres with a lot of other kids didn't have no folks."

"An orphan house?"

"Yeah."

"So you was all alone?" Ginny's eyes fixed on him.

"Well, no… My friend was there with me. He lost his family, same time I lost mine."

"Oh." They had reached the well: Ginny stopped and set her bucket down, then reached for the well bucket on its rope. Kid beat her to it, taking the wooden bucket and dropping it down into the dark hole. He waited for the bucket to fill, feeling the weight pull on the rope, then began to haul it up hand over hand. Ginny watched him closely. "What was it like, livin' in an orphan house?"

Kid couldn't help a wry expression coming onto his face. "Well, it wasn't no church picnic. But we got through all right." _By running away the first chance we got._

"Some folks say my ma shoulda sold up our farm when daddy died. They say she should move into town, send us to school."

"There's always some folks got an opinion on other peoples' business," commented Kid. "What do you think?"

"I want to stay here," Ginny replied without hesitation. "We can run the farm. And me and Will's got enough book learning to get by on; ma gets us to read from the Bible and do figuring with numbers and stuff, once in a while. Anyways, I don't like it in town. It's dirty and loud, and folks're always fightin' and gettin' drunk." She raised her hand and pointed to a ridge of hills in the distance. "My daddy used to take us up in the hills and we'd go trackin' with him and Asa. He could track better'n anyone. He'd show us where the mountain lions had been, and where the buzzards were nesting. An' sometimes he'd set us down and tell us just to listen to the wind. He said it could tell us things, if we listened real hard."

Kid smiled at her. "And what did you hear it say?"

"That's a secret." Ginny looked at him seriously. "Daddy always said, what the wind tells you, you keep to yourself. It's like tellin' a wish: if you tell someone, it's gone for good."

"Your daddy was a smart man." Kid emptied the full well bucket into one of Ginny's pails, then dropped it on its rope back down the well. "I bet he'd be real proud of how you and your brother are helpin' your ma to look after this place."

Ginny said nothing, but the way her eyes lit up showed Kid his remark had hit home.

oooOOOooo

The day passed slowly, with Kid helping Ginny carry out the numerous farm chores. The girl was obviously used to hard work, hefting water and hoeing the dry earth between rows of crops with a practiced hand.

At noon Mrs Reed called them in to the kitchen for a simple meal of bread and bacon, washed down with a potful of coffee. Kid was drinking his third cup before it struck him that Mrs Reed and Ginny were drinking only water. He slowly set his cup down on the table, looking thoughtful. Mrs Reed glanced at him, then reached for the coffee pot on the stove. "More coffee, Mr Jones?"

"I've had plenty, thank you, ma'am," replied Kid. "Couldn't manage another drop." He fell to finishing his food, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Mrs Reed tip up the coffee pot and pour herself the last meagre cupful. Kid's mouth twitched. _Shoulda guessed they was short on supplies. Can't be easy makin' ends meet out here, with two growing kids. But she made sure to give company the best she could offer, before she served herself._ Kid felt a little ashamed for not noticing sooner, but he knew that there was little he could do to make amends now. Mrs Reed and her family had little enough, but what this woman did have in spades was pride – and he wasn't about to take that away from her.

The afternoon wore away in further farmwork, finishing tending the crops and seeing to the few livestock. The dry stony soil was not ideal growing land, but the Reeds had obviously made the best of what they had. Kid was puzzled by the layout in one of the plots where vegetables grew: instead of the tidy rows of plants he had seen elsewhere, a seemingly confused mass of vegetation of different sorts grew up together in one large plot. He paused in his work to regard the plants, a quizzical expression on his face. As he stood there Ginny came up behind him, carrying an empty basket. She stopped beside him, glanced at him, then looked at the plants. "What d'you see, Mr Jones? Wa'n't a snake there, was there?"

"Nope, no snake."

"Sometimes y'get 'em hereabouts. Will a'most got bit once; he stepped barefoot on a massasuaga. Luckily it was early mornin', so that old snake was too cold to move fast. Will moved pretty quick, though!" She grinned.

"I'll bet." Kid smiled back. "Hope he don't make a habit of goin' round barefoot. Or you either. I'll bet there's plenty of snakes round here, that might just not be so sleepy next time they get stepped on."

"Oh, ma telled him time an' again not to go out in the fields without his boots on. Me too. But sometimes Will just don't think."

"Hmm." Kid raised an eyebrow. "But you do?"

"I got to." Ginny looked sober for a moment. "I'm the eldest. I got to look out for Will, make sure he minds ma and does his chores. When my daddy got sick he told me that's what I gotta do, to help ma."

Kid nodded. "Kind of a tough job, keeping a little brother in line."

"You ever had to do it? With your brothers?"

"Nope. I was the youngest. I was the one they had to keep in line." Kid looked down for a moment, then turned his head and grinned at her. "And boy, did I take some keeping in line."

"How come?"

"Oh, I was pretty good at gettin' into trouble," said Kid. "Although as I recall, I often had more'n a little help from my friend."

"Your friend who's sick? Mr Smith?"

"Yep." Kid smiled again. "He always was good at comin' up with plans that got us both into hot water. Not that that ever stopped me joinin' in." He paused for a moment, childhood memories surfacing… Then stopped his train of thought abruptly, as the crackling of flames came into his mind.

Shaking his head a little as though to clear it, Kid gestured at the plants growing in front of them. "Anyways – reason I stopped, was these here. I reckon that's maize growin' tallest, but you got beans and allsuch mixed in there too. I ain't never seen folks grow crops like that, all together in one place."

"It was my daddy's idea." Ginny pointed at the plants. "Asa told him how: said he learned it off the injuns. You make a mound and plant the corn first, then you sow beans to grow up the corn, then you plant squash underneath 'em. Makes a better crop. Asa said the injuns calls it the Three Sisters: corn, beans and squash." She stroked a long leaf of a maize plant. "It's easier to look after, too. Don't hardly need hoein' at all to keep the weeds down, once the squash starts coverin' the ground."

"Well, that's pretty clever." Kid was impressed. "Never heard tell of that before." He gazed at the plants. "Looks like you got beans ready for eating there, too."

"Uh huh." Ginny set her basket on the ground. "I'm gonna pick some now, for supper. Ma's gonna make a chicken stew." The eager tone with which she said this last clued Kid in to the fact that chicken was not a regular dish on the table. _Setting up a good meal for company, _ he thought. _I swear, we are gonna do something to help this family out before we go, once Heyes is back on his feet. Even if all Mrs Reed will accept is work in kind, I'll bet there's plenty needs fixing up around this place._

As Ginny set about picking beans, Kid headed back to the barn. A brief search yielded a hammer and some other tools. Taking them with him, Kid made for the rickety chicken pen. He was no carpenter, but he reckoned he could at least strengthen the enclosure and fix the latch on the gate. After that he planned to make a new cover for the well: the old one was unsafe, rotten and splintered. As he got to work, an ironic smile quirked up one corner of his mouth: usually farmwork was the last thing he'd choose to do. But something about Mrs Reed and her hardworking children had caught his interest. Although he was still worried about his partner, he felt a curious sense of trust in this place, in these people. It wasn't a feeling he often entertained for strangers, and it made him feel at ease for the first time in a good while.

oooOOOooo

The sun had dropped behind the hills when Ginny came and found him at the well, cutting a length of timber to size. "Ma says to come and wash up and get some supper." Kid laid the timber down and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Ginny regarded the well curiously. "What're you doin'?"

"Fixing you a new well cover. Old one's about had it." Kid picked up the tools. "Don't want you or your brother pitchin' head first down the well." He smiled at her.

"Oh." Ginny fell into step beside him as they headed across the yard. She waited in the barn as he stowed the tools back in their places, stroking the noses of Heyes' and Kid's horses in turn. As Kid came back past the stalls, she said, "I like your horses."

Kid looked at the animals. "Which one d'you like best?" Ginny regarded first one horse, then the other. After a moment's silent thought, she touched Heyes' sorrel mare gently on the neck, stroking her hand down its smooth coat. "This'n. She's a prettier colour than the other."

"She's a good-looking horse, all right." Kid patted the sorrel on the neck himself. "You just got the one horse on the farm?"

"Not enough feed to keep more'n Esther," said Ginny quietly. "Will an' me had us a couple of ponies, but ma had to sell 'em after pa died. Esther's a good ploughin' horse, and she'll drive real gentle with a cart too." Abruptly she turned away from the horses. "We better get in to supper. Ma'll be mad if we're late comin' to table."

Before going to the kitchen Kid washed the dust and sweat of the day's chores from his face and hands, in a bowl of cold water laid out in the porch. He'd stripped off to his henley to work, to try to keep his shirt presentable: however, after putting it on he realised ruefully that the past two days of travelling rough hadn't done much to make him look respectable. He rubbed a thumb along his chin, feeling the rasp of a day's growth there. _Too late to shave now. Best do it in the morning._

Entering the kitchen, he saw Mrs Reed standing at the stove, stirring a steaming pot: Ginny was already seated at the table. Kid took the chair opposite her, nodding at the girl's mother. "Evenin', ma'am."

"Good evening, Mr Jones." Mrs Reed lifted the heavy cookpot from the stove and set it on the table. "There's chicken stew for supper, and beans."

"Sounds mighty fine," said Kid, passing his plate to her outstretched hand. As she began to ladle savoury-smelling stew onto his plate, he added, "Been a while since I had some good home-cooked food."

"It's nothin' fancy." Mrs Reed served her daughter, then herself. Covering the cookpot she set it to one side. Kid picked up his fork and was about to set to when he caught himself just in time: both woman and girl had bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Sheepishly Kid laid his fork down and looked downwards.

Ginny spoke grace. "O Lord, we thank you for the gifts of your bounty which we enjoy at this table. For health and strength, we thank you; and we pray that you bless our family and our home. Amen."

"Amen," echoed the two adults, quietly. Kid raised his head and looked at Mrs Reed. She passed him a platter with thick slices of bread on it. "We got no taters yet, but I baked fresh sourdough this mornin'."

"Thank you." Kid took a piece of bread and laid it on his plate to soak in the rich stew gravy. "I wanted to ask you, ma'am – how's my friend doin'?"

"He's pretty much the same," replied Mrs Reed. "Sleepin' when I left him, but he's still got the fever on him."

Kid glanced at the kitchen window, where the evening light was starting to fade. "Looks like it'll be dark soon. I guess your boy won't be comin' back tonight."

"No, I reckon not." Mrs Reed nodded. "Asa must've been going round his trap lines. But he'll be back by now, so likely they'll ride on back here tomorrow morning." Kid said nothing further, but started to eat his supper in silence. Mrs Reed gave him a glance, noting the frown drawn in above the bright blue eyes.

oooOOOooo

As the meal ended, Ginny cleared the table and began to wash dishes. Kid excused himself and headed to the bedroom at the back of the cabin.

A lamp turned low had been left on the table, casting its warm glow over the small room. Heyes lay quietly in the bed, but sweat beaded on his face. Kid pulled up the stool and sat down beside the bed, looking at his friend. He tried to make as little noise as possible, but as he sat down Heyes' eyelids flickered, then opened. A pair of unfocussed-looking dark eyes looked up at Kid. Heyes' lips parted, and a sound as faint as a breath came out. "… Hey…"

"Hey yourself." Kid leaned in closer, trying to smile cheerfully. "Mrs Reed tells me you've been getting some sleep. That's good."

"…Mhmm…" Heyes let his eyes close briefly, then opened them again with effort. "…What… time's'it?.."

"Evening." Kid looked across the room to where a pitcher and cup stood. "You want a drink of water?" Not waiting for an answer he rose and crossed the room, filled the cup and brought it back. Heyes' eyes had closed again. Gently Kid slid a hand under his head, feeling the sweat-damp hair under his fingers. At his touch Heyes opened his eyes; Kid lifted the cup to his lips. "Take a sip." He tilted the cup and Heyes managed to swallow a mouthful, two; then the sick man tried to turn his face away. "C'mon, Heyes, that's hardly more'n a drop. You gotta drink the rest of this."

Heyes' brows drew together in a muzzy though familiar mulish expression. "…Go… 'way… Kid…"

"Uh-uh." Kid raised the cup of water to his friend's mouth again. "Not till you drink a little more water." He tilted the cup. "C'mon, Heyes. I'm telling you, you're either gonna drink this or wind up wearing it. Which do you want it to be?"

Slowly Heyes managed to drink the rest of the water down. When the cup was empty Kid set it to one side. "That's better." He looked around: the cloth Mrs Reed had used to wipe Heyes' forehead was laid beside the basin of water, next to the lamp. Kid picked the cloth up and dipped it into the water, then wrung it out. Turning back to the bed, he gently touched the cloth to his friend's face, blotting away the sweat. Heyes let out a sigh, then opened his eyes again. His feverish gaze found Kid. "…You... playin'… nursemaid?.."

"Yeah. I'm your ministering angel." Kid redipped and wrung out the cloth, then laid it back against his friend's face. "Only don't go getting any ideas: I ain't gonna make a habit of this. You better get well quick."

"…Sure…" Heyes' eyes started to drift closed again. "…Jus'… need to… sleep… some…" Then suddenly his eyes flared wide open. "Where'd… you go… earlier, Kid?.." He frowned up at his friend. "I woke up… a while ago… And you weren't here…"

"I was just outside. Helping these folks out with a few things." Kid mopped the feverish man's brow. "Mrs Reed sat with you and looked after you."

"Who?…" Heyes looked even more confused.

"The lady whose house this is." Kid glanced around the room. "Whose bed you're lyin' in, as a matter of fact."

"Her… bed?..." Heyes looked totally lost. "Where's… she… sleepin'?.."

"Don't worry about it," Kid reassured him. "It's all figured out." Heyes looked at him, a frown drawn in between his brows. His eyelids drooped with weariness, but he struggled to keep them open.

"F'I… go to sleep… You… gonna be here… when I wake up?.."

"I'm not goin' anywhere, partner." Kid laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry. You get some rest."

Heyes let his eyes close; soon he seemed to have slipped back into a feverish slumber. Kid laid the cloth to one side, then let out a heavy breath. His gaze rested worriedly on his sick friend. _I sure hope this Asa fella does get here tomorrow morning._

Kid sat quietly at Heyes' side for some time, at last falling into a light doze himself. He was roused by a touch on his shoulder. Startled from sleep he sat up swiftly, hand dropping down to where his gun would be if it had still been there. When his groping fingers touched the cloth of his jeans he froze for a moment, then lifted his head. Standing in front of him was Mrs Reed, a frown on her face. "Landsakes, Mr Jones, it's only me."

Awkwardly Kid lifted the hand that had gone for his missing gun and rubbed the back of his head, forcing a sheepish smile onto his face. "Sorry, ma'am. Guess I was dreamin'."

"Uh huh." She regarded him sceptically. "Well, if you're ready to sleep, might as well lie down like a Christian instead of sittin' up all night." She cast a glance at the bed. "Your friend's asleep too. Could be he'll have a quiet night." Kid nodded. "Good night, Mr Jones."

"Good night, ma'am." Kid waited until she'd shut the bedroom door behind her, then let out a heavy breath. Rising stiffly from the chair – the day's work had started to make itself felt in his muscles – he undressed and crawled into his bed on the floor, pausing only to blow out the lamp. Within minutes he was sound asleep once again.


	6. Chapter 6

**One Good Turn - Chapter Six**

It was full morning before Kid roused from dreams so deep it took him some time to surface. He lay with eyes shut, gradually becoming aware of the warmth of the blankets around him; the pillow beneath his cheek; an ache in his hip where he'd lain for too long on one side. He knew it was time to wake up, but sleep was still close enough that he found it hard to ignore its siren song. Without thinking about it too much, he let the sounds of the world slowly filter through into his consciousness. After a while, one sound in particular caught his attention: someone catching their breath, as if they'd been running hard.

Kid's eyes suddenly opened. The sound was coming from the bed. Pushing off his blankets, he rose and stumbled across the room. With one hand he drew the curtain back from the window to let in the daylight, steadying himself with his other hand on the bed as he looked down.

Heyes lay grey-faced, skin wet with sweat. He was shivering violently, so hard that the bed shook with him. His breath came through parched lips, in shaking gasps.

"Heyes?" One hand lay outside the covers: Kid took hold of it and the skin burned underneath his fingers. Heyes flinched and twisted his head on the pillow, making an inarticulate sound of protest. "Heyes - " Kid clenched his grip tight on his friend's hand, heart sinking with apprehension. _Fever's way up. Damnit._ He let go, turned and grabbed his clothes from the floor and hauled them on. As soon as he was decent he pulled open the bedroom door and headed for the kitchen.

Mrs Reed was alone at the table, clearing away some dishes. As he came in she started to speak. "Thought I'd let you sleep late a whiles. There's coffee and biscuits warm in the stove - " She saw his face and paused.

"My friend," Kid said urgently. "His fever's right back up. He looks real bad."

Without a word, Mrs Reed put the dishes she'd been holding down on the table, and moved to the doorway. She headed straight for the bedroom, followed by Kid. Stopping at Heyes' bedside, she bent over and took hold of the sick man's hand, looking intently down at his face. "Mr Smith? Can you hear me? Open y'r eyes." When Heyes didn't respond, she patted his hand and said quietly, "Could be he'll rouse for you, if you was to talk to him."

Kid came close to the bed too, sitting down on the stool. "Joshua. Wake up. Wake up, partner. C'mon and open your eyes." Heyes' eyelids flickered, then half-opened. "That's it, partner. I know you can hear me."

Mrs Reed moved to fill the cup with water, then returned to the bed. "We'd best get him to drink this down. I'll make some more fever tea for him." She held the cup to Heyes' mouth. "Come on now, Joshua. Just sip a little water."

Heyes' dry lips parted, but his teeth chattered so hard the cup rattled against them. He was still shivering violently, as if wracked with cold. Mrs Reed tried for a few moments more to help him to drink, then she set the cup down. "All right, now." She gently took his arm and tucked it under the covers, pulling the blankets up high around him. "It'll pass. Just rest now."

She rose and moved away from the bed, taking Kid by the arm and leading him out of the room with her and back to the kitchen.

Mrs Reed filled a cookpot with water and set it on the stove, then looked at Kid. "It's the chills on him now. Best to keep him warm, and keep tryin' to get him to drink a little."

"He's gettin' worse." Kid stared at her.

"He's pretty sick, that's for sure. But that's how the fever and ague takes folks: they gets a fever, then they start shiverin' like they was caught in a blizzard, then they take the fever again. I seen it before. But your friend in there, he's a young man, strong enough to fight it off. Long as we keep tendin' him, he stands a good chance of pullin' through." She took down a wooden box and tipped some of its contents into the heating water in the pot. Kid caught the familiar bitter smell of the herbal tisane the woman had used before.

"What can I do?" asked Kid helplessly, feeling overwhelmed by frustration.

"Sit by your friend and keep on tryin' to get some water down him. Fever like that, if'n he don't drink he's going to get sicker."

"That's all?" protested Kid. "What about if I rode on out towards your neighbour's place? I could meet him and your boy halfway, get him here quicker - "

"Asa'll be here soon enough," said Mrs Reed. She turned from the stove and gave him a firm look. "You just go sit with your friend and take care of him. It won't help none you goin' tearin' off round the hillside. Likely you'll ride too hard and have an accident, and then Asa'll have two instead of one to fix up. That won't help your friend any." Her dark eyes were severe. "You want to do anythin' else, you could have a word with the Lord to help your friend, if you're a prayin' man." Kid shut his mouth, looking away uncomfortably; Mrs Reed eyed him, then turned back to the stove. "Or even if you ain't… Now's as good a time as any to get into the habit."

Without another word, Kid returned to the bedroom and sat down by his friend. Mrs Reed's words repeated in his head. _You could have a word with the Lord to help your friend, if you're a prayin' man._ Kid's mouth set in an uneasy line, his brows drawn down into a frown. _Well, I sure ain't a prayin' man. Not even close. _His gaze rested on Heyes' sweat-beaded face. _Reckon if the Lord was on our side, we'd have noticed by now._

Kid had only been sitting by the bedside for a short while when the room door opened and Mrs Reed came in, carrying a tin mug of coffee and plate with some biscuits. She handed them to Kid. "No sense lettin' good food go to waste."

"Thank you, ma'am." She nodded, then left him alone again. Kid mechanically began to eat; took a sip of the hot coffee. He had no appetite, but it was something to do other than sit and worry. When he'd cleared the plate he set it to one side, then reached for the mug of water that stood by the bedside. Leaning over, he spoke quietly. "Heyes." The feverish man made no response. "Heyes. Open your eyes." This time his friend's eyelids flickered. "That's it. C'mon, partner. Just look at me a minute."

Heyes' brows creased together, then his eyes opened. Kid leaned in closer, holding the cup of water in one hand. "Okay, Heyes. Time for a little drink." He slid his free hand under his friend's head, lifting him just enough to bring the cup to his lips. Heyes' lips trembled as he tried to drink: water ran down his chin as the shivering gripped him. Setting his jaw determinedly, Kid tried again. This time Heyes got a couple of mouthfuls down. "That's good, partner. Keep at it. Just take a sip at a time." It took a while, but at last the cup was empty. Kid put it to one side, then sat back to wait.

oooOOOooo

Sitting by the bedside, Kid lost track of time. He had fallen into a brooding stillness, gazing fixedly at the floor, when the sound of voices outside the cabin roused him. He got up quickly, glanced at the still-shivering Heyes, and headed towards the source of the noise.

Kid reached the front porch to find Mrs Reed standing out in the yard, together with Will, who was still sitting astride their big bay mare. Beside the horse a tall, lean man with greying hair and a weathered face was nodding a response to Mrs Reed's greeting.

Kid stepped down from the porch, and the trio looked at him. Kid turned his gaze on the tall man, appraising the stranger; Mrs Reed spoke. "Mr Jones, this is our neighbour, Asa Lee. Asa, this here's Mr Thaddeus Jones."

"Mr Jones." Asa held out his hand readily; after a moment, Kid took it. The man's grip was firm, his dark eyes direct and open. "I hear your friend's took pretty sick."

Kid nodded. "I was hoping if he got some rest he'd pick up some, but his fever's way up this morning. He's shiverin' fit to bust."

Asa acknowledged this with a quick nod of his own. "Well, I'd best take a look-see. Hand me down my bag there, Will." The boy passed down a large leather satchel, which Asa took and headed towards the house. As they walked through the kitchen, Asa said, "Do I smell coffee?"

"You smell coffee two hours old." Mrs Reed stopped by the stove. "I'll brew up some fresh." Asa gave her a smile, his face lightening for a moment. Then he turned and gestured at the doorway. "After you, Mr Jones."

Once in the bedroom, Asa's expression grew sober again. He sat down at the bedside and reached over, laying one hand across Heyes' forehead. Turning down the covers, he took hold of the sick man's wrist with the other hand and sat quietly for a moment. Heyes stirred under his touch, his body still shaking with fever. Asa watched his face keenly; after a couple of minutes he took his hands away, gently pulling the covers back up around Heyes' chest. Then he leaned back in the chair and looked up at Kid. "How long's he been like this?"

"He started getting sick two days ago. We was ridin' from Garnerville to Lawton and he said he had a headache. Then he started throwin' up, runnin' a fever. I got him here and he's been in and out of it since. Seems like he's getting a little better, then the fever just comes back."

Asa nodded. "And where were you before you were in Garnerville?"

"Rounding up stray cattle, along Ash Creek and thereabouts."

"You round there long? Camping out in the river bottoms?"

"Coupla weeks." Kid rubbed the back of his neck. "Mrs Reed said she reckoned maybe my friend here caught the marsh fever or somesuch."

"Well, I'm inclined to agree." Asa reached for his leather satchel and began to unbuckle it. "Looks just like it… And if you boys have been bunking down in that kind of lowland country, it's a wonder you're not both laid up." He took a small brown glass bottle from his bag. "There any water in here?"

"Yeah." Kid moved to the jug on the shelf, filled the tin cup, and brought it over to the bed. Asa had uncorked the bottle and was carefully tipping out a whitish powder onto a small piece of folded paper. His eyes measured the amount of powder narrowly; he added a few grains more, then recorked the bottle and set it to one side. "Okay. If you can get your friend sat up a little, we can get this down him."

"What is it?" Kid asked, moving to where he could lift Heyes' head and shoulders from the pillow. Asa lifted the folded paper precisely, taking care not to spill any of the powder. "Quinine. It'll fix what's ailing him. But he's not going to like the way it tastes." He bent over the bed. "Hold him up. And see if you can rouse him a little."

Once again Kid slid his arm under Heyes' shoulders, and lifted him a little upright. "Joshua. Wake up. Joshua." Heyes lay heavy against his supporting arm, and for a moment Kid wondered if his partner's alias would penetrate his fevered mind. Then Heyes' eyes flickered half-open; moved confusedly, then found Kid's face. Kid tried an encouraging smile. "It's okay, partner. The doc's here. He's got something that's gonna make you feel a whole lot better."

"Alright, son. Open up." Asa leaned over and gently laid one hand against Heyes' face, prompting him to open his mouth. Deftly he lifted the folded paper to the sick man's lips and tipped it up, sliding the powder onto his tongue. Before Heyes could do anything, Asa brought the cup of water to his lips and tipped that up a little too. "Swallow it straight down."

As his partner was forced to drink, Kid saw the involuntary grimace wring his face. Heyes had time only to make a faint sound of protest before Asa raised the cup of water to his lips again. "Take another drink, son. Only way to wash the taste out your mouth." Heyes' eyes widened, but he had to swallow or choke: he took another mouthful of the water. Asa kept the cup there until a third swallow had gone down, then he set it to one side. "You can let him lay back now."

Kid let his shivering, sweating partner lie back against the pillow. Heyes turned his head away, letting out an unsteady breath and swallowing hard.

"Best to let him rest now." Asa tucked the covers neatly around the sick man's shoulders, then stood up. "That dose'll see him through till nightfall. I'll see how he's coming along then."

oooOOOooo

The two men returned to the kitchen, where the smell of hot coffee greeted them. Asa took a seat at the table with the quiet ease of long familiarity: after a moment, Kid sat down opposite him. Mrs Reed set a cup of coffee in front of each man, then nodded at the cookstove. "There's more in the pot when you're ready for it. I'll be out back." Then she left the two men alone.

Asa picked up his mug of coffee and blew on it, then took a deep mouthful. Letting out a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "Well, that's better. I've been looking forward to that since we left my place at dawn."

"I'm mighty obliged to you for riding over and seeing to my friend," said Kid. "We sure fell on our feet, finding our way to Mrs Reed's place here."

"She's a good woman," said Asa simply. He rubbed one hand over his unshaven chin. "And I'm glad to be of use, to your sick friend."

"You… reckon he'll be okay?"

Asa shrugged. "They say only God makes guarantees, but I think your partner'll pull through. He'll need to take the quinine every day for a couple of weeks; but the fever and chills should ease up by tomorrow or the next day, all goes well. He won't feel up to much for a while, though. Marsh fever takes it out of a man." He took another sip of coffee, his gaze resting back on Kid. "You got urgent business in Lawton?"

"Nope." Kid shook his head. "Nothin' that can't wait."

"Well, your friend won't be back on his feet for a week or so, most likely. And he might not feel like getting back on a horse too soon. If you haven't got any pressing plans, I'd say your best move was to stay here till he's got his strength back."

"I guess that all depends on Mrs Reed," said Kid slowly. "I can work out our board, around the farm… But maybe she won't want the trouble of putting us up for a few weeks."

Asa chuckled. "If you'd been any trouble, she wouldn't have had you in this house a day. Not if I know Hannah." Then his gaze fixed on Kid steadily over the top of his mug. "You aren't planning on being any trouble, are you?"

"No." Kid felt his hackles rise, but tried to suppress his prickly feelings. "I don't plan on anything except waiting for my partner to get better, then riding on outta here."

After a pause, Asa nodded; dropped his gaze to his coffee and took another sip. "Don't take offence, Mr Jones. We look out for each other round here, that's all. Hannah and her kids have been my neighbours the best part of thirteen years."

Kid acknowledged the man's statement with a nod. "You lived in these parts long?"

"A while." Asa's non-committal reply was friendly in tone, but uninformative.

"Don't seem like you'd get much call for practicing medicine, way out here in the back country," said Kid. "Would've thought in a town like Lawton you'd get more business."

"Practicing medicine is what doctors do." Asa smiled again. "I'm no doctor. I just know enough to get by."

"Where'd you learn it?" Kid asked. "I was watching you back in there with my partner… You say you're no doctor, but I've seen plenty of doctors do worse with a sick man than you did."

"There's nothing a man can't teach himself, if he's got time and patience." Asa looked at Kid again. "And opportunity."

"Wouldn't have thought you'd get much opportunity for doctoring in these parts."

"Now and again, I get called on to help. And I had plenty of opportunity to learn when I served in the war." Kid's head lifted, as he met the older man's gaze. "I worked as an orderly, alongside the surgeons. Got myself a whole education in just a few years."

"Hell of a way to learn a trade," Kid said, looking at the man.

"Hell was the word for it." Asa's gaze turned inwards, and Kid saw a shadow fall across the man's face. "But it was that or serve as a soldier, and I swore I'd never pick up a rifle." He took another drink of coffee, still lost in dark memories for a moment… Then lifted his head and looked back at Kid. "I guess you'd have been too young to fight."

"Yeah." Kid didn't elaborate, but he felt the older man's gaze searching him, almost as though Asa was reading his thoughts. It wasn't a sensation he was comfortable with: lifting his coffee cup, he drained it, then got to his feet. "Guess I'll go see what I can lend a hand with outside. If you reckon my friend's best left to sleep."

"Rest is the best thing for him. That, and plenty of water to drink." Asa nodded at the doorway which led to the cabin's interior. "You go on ahead. I'll keep an eye on your friend for a while." He smiled. "Gives me an excuse to sit here in comfort and drink up the rest of that coffee."

oooOOOooo

Outside, Kid headed to the barn to get the tools he'd used the day before. Stepping into the cool dimness, he saw Will hard at work clearing out the horse's stalls. Kid walked up to the boy, leaning one arm on a stall. "Now, I thought we had an agreement." Will looked up from raking out the trampled straw, startled: when he saw Kid, he stood still, looking confused. "Sir?"

"Seem to remember, I told your sister…" Kid came into the stall. "…That I'd trade my time to keep things fair and square between us." He held out his hand, pointing at the rake. "You want to rake, or pitch?"

Will looked at the rake, then back to Kid. His expression was uncertain. "Clearin' the stalls is one of my chores," he declared. "I oughta have been all done 'fore now, if I hadn't been fetching Asa over."

"Well, seeing as how you had to do that on my friend's account, seems only fair I lend you a hand in here." Kid took care to speak seriously, respecting the boy's position as the man of the house. "From what your neighbour Mr Lee says, my friend and I might need to stay here more'n a few days - if your mother agrees. Now, I'd feel a lot easier with doing that if I could pitch in with what needs doing about the place, lend you and your sister a hand with your chores." Kid watched the boy's face: Will appeared to be considering the offer, but still looked hesitant. Kid decided to push things a little. "That is, unless you'd rather do this on your own."

Will looked down at his feet for a moment. When he lifted his head and looked up again, he was smiling. Kid knew he'd won. "Well… Sure, Mr Jones."


	7. Chapter 7

**One Good Turn - Chapter Seven**

Heyes couldn't sleep. It seemed like a bitter cold had come into the room: he was lying in bed, but the blankets couldn't keep out the chill that gripped him. Every muscle in his body ached with it, an ache that penetrated to his very bones. He had a dim memory that somehow this was all wrong, that it shouldn't be this cold. The memory told him that not so long ago it had been summer: he'd been riding with Kid, and it had been sunny and warm. And he didn't remember autumn coming on. Yet it must have done, because he was lying in bed and freezing as if a midwinter blizzard was blowing outside. _I'll bet Kid left the cabin door unlatched, and it blew open in the night. No wonder it feels like an icehouse in here._

His muscles tightened against the chill, then he felt himself begin to shiver. It hurt and he tried not to, but it was as if someone else had control of his body. The shivering gripped him from head to foot, set his teeth chattering until he had to clench his jaw shut.

A voice spoke close by. "Mr Smith." Heyes, concentrating on stopping his teeth rattling loose, ignored it. "Mr Smith." What felt like a hand touched his shoulder: Heyes opened his eyes quickly. A stranger looked down at him, a grey-haired man. Heyes had no idea what this stranger was doing in his and Kid's hideout. _One of us should've kept watch. I always told Kid we got to keep one eye lookin' over our shoulders, all the time. Doesn't matter how far we get from folks, there's always gonna be someone thinking of collecting on that twenty thousand dollars._

"Try and take a little water." The man was holding out a cup now. Heyes regarded it narrowly. He wasn't about to drink anything this stranger was offering. In fact, any minute now he was going to get up and ask him what in Sam Hill he was doing in his and Kid's cabin. Just as soon as he could stop shivering and sit up.

"Just try a sip." The cup was at his mouth, tilted up: water felt icy against his lips. Heyes kept his jaw clenched shut and turned his head away, shutting his eyes. He heard the man's voice again, but somehow not being able to see him made it easier not to hear him too. The voice blurred in his ears, dwindling away to nothing. _Good. Shouldn't have been there in the first place._ Heyes wasn't thirsty, anyhow. He just wanted to sleep, get warm so he could stop shivering and sleep; if he could sleep he could get away from the ache in his bones.

oooOOOooo

_Now Heyes was walking, bareheaded in bright sunshine, along a dusty ridge. He'd been walking a long time and he was tired: his legs ached and he wanted to rest. But if he stopped, the posse would catch him up. The only thing to do was keep walking. The sun was beating down on his head and the back of his neck, heat heavy against his skin. Ahead shapes danced in shimmering heat haze, blurring and moving like ghosts. The ground was rocky and rough underfoot; as he grew more weary, he stumbled and almost fell. But there was nowhere to hole up, nowhere to hide: only endless open ground, making him keep walking onwards._

_Suddenly Kid was there, walking beside him. Kid turned to smile at him, sweat dark on his shirt, holding out a canteen. "Better take a drink, Heyes. We got a ways to walk yet."_

_Heyes took the canteen and raised it to his lips, opening his mouth. But no water came out: only dust falling onto his tongue, gritty and dry, filling his mouth with bitterness. He choked, pushing the canteen away: but Kid took it and held it out to him again, shaking his head. "You gotta drink. Just swallow it down."_

Heyes opened his eyes and Kid was looking at him, his blue eyes full of concern. Kid's hand held a tin mug which he was lifting towards Heyes. "C'mon, partner. You gotta drink, even if it's just a little. It'll wash down that powder real quick."

Heyes' mouth was full of a taste so awful that he didn't hesitate to lift his head and take whatever it was Kid was giving him. Cool wetness washed some of the awfulness away, but it was still horribly there, even after he'd swallowed down several mouthfuls of water. He felt Kid's arm behind his shoulders, supporting him as he drank. The other thing he noticed was that the room was no longer cold: in fact, he was so warm he could feel sweat sliding down his neck. "Did you… make a fire?"

Kid's brows drew together, an expression Heyes recognised as the one his partner got when he wasn't following what being said. "No."

"Hhm…" Heyes tried swallowing again, to see if the horrible taste would go this time. It didn't. "Seems… a little warmer in here…"

"You're still running a fever." Kid moved his supporting arm away slowly, letting him lie back against a pillow. It felt damp and sweaty to Heyes, like his clothes and the sheet beneath him. In fact, all things considered, he felt pretty damn lousy. Which could explain why Kid was looking down at him like a mother hen at a nestful of wet chicks. "Did you say… fever?"

"Yeah. You been took bad with a dose of marsh fever. Leastways, that's what the doc reckons."

Heyes considered this information, shutting his eyes. It didn't fit with the memory he had, of being so cold. He tried to push his memory back further, but all he could come up with was a confused notion of riding over rocky ground. It didn't help that his thoughts kept slipping away from him: as he tried to concentrate, they scurried away into the hazy corners of his mind. He frowned and opened his eyes again, not liking the feeling. Kid was still there, still mother-henning.

"What… day is it?" That seemed important to establish.

Kid looked stymied. "I ain't got a clue. You need to know that now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. It's - " Kid appeared to rack his brains for a moment. "Friday. I guess. That help you any?"

"Mm." Heyes slid the shiny, reliable fact onto a shelf in his brain and admired it for a moment. _Friday. No doubt about it._ It was something solid to hang on to: Friday and Kid sitting there and the godawful taste that was still in his mouth, three real things held up like talismans against the shifting shadowy world that he knew he was going to slide back into at any moment. It wasn't far off: he could feel it lurking at the foot of the bed. _Like a snake waiting to strike._

As soon as he had had the thought, he wished he hadn't. The shadowy world came a little closer and it was a place where thoughts were real, where dreams came true. He knew Kid was real and so was the taste in his mouth and so now was the snake coiled at the end of the bed. He felt it starting to move and fear rose in him, bringing sweat surging up on his skin. "Kid. Kid!"

"What is it?" Kid was close, sitting beside him. Heyes knew the snake was uncoiling and slithering up behind his friend, ready to strike: he could feel its movement through the bedclothes, a slowly shifting weight creeping up his legs. _It's coming closer. Got to get it off._ His muscles felt heavy and useless as he tried to sit up, to kick the blankets away.

Kid's arm went across his chest. "Whoa, Heyes – take it easy!"

"Get it off - " Heyes could still feel the slithering weight there, crawling across him. He jerked his legs again, pressing himself back against the pillow. "Watch out – Kid, watch your back - "

"What is it?" Kid was still holding him, speaking quietly, trying to calm him down.

"Snake – there – " Heyes pointed down at the bedclothes… But there was nothing there. He kept his eyes fixed on the covers, not believing what he saw. _Maybe I kicked it off. Onto the floor. So it's somewhere in the room._ "Where'd it… go?"

"Nowhere, partner." Kid's voice was soothing. "It wasn't here in the first place. There's no snake. It's okay."

"I felt it, Kid… It was on the bed." It seemed important that Kid understood that. Because Heyes knew, seeing snakes where there weren't any was the kind of thing crazy people did. And he wasn't crazy. And he hadn't seen it. He'd _felt_ it.

"Think you're just gettin' a little mixed up. Maybe you better lie back down."

Heyes wasn't so sure. "Can't go to sleep… With a snake in the room." Kid's brows drew together; he took a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh. "Okay. How 'bout if I check and… uh… make sure the snake's gone?" He stood up and stepped around the bed, making a show of peering underneath it, then looked into the corners of the room. When he'd done a complete circuit he returned and sat back down on the bed's edge. "No sign of it, Heyes. It must've gone." The patience in his tone was stretched thin when he spoke again. "So will you lie the hell down and try to get some rest?" Concern filled his eyes now. "You look like you need it."

Heyes made no answer, but Kid's words brought him back into the reality of his body. Sitting up and moving had drained him of energy: he felt breathless and his heart was hammering in his chest. Suddenly, staying upright seemed a poor option. He decided to go along with Kid's suggestion for now. _Maybe I could use a little sleep._ For a moment he considered how he was going to lie back; it seemed important to do things slowly and carefully.

"Easy, partner." Suddenly Kid was leaning over him, a supporting hand under the back of his head. Heyes _was_ lying down, flat on his back: he didn't remember how that had happened. He blinked up at his friend, into those worried blue eyes. "Uh…" The bed felt softer than anything he'd ever laid down on before. He was sinking down into it, as if it was a warm fluffy cloud. "Was… I just sittin' up?.."

"Just go to sleep, Heyes." Kid's expression had taken on a look that had made countless men back down over the last few years. Heyes elected not to push his luck where so many others had tried and failed. He closed his eyes and let himself sink down into the bed, let the darkness swallow him up.

Kid waited for a few minutes at the bedside, looking down at his unconscious friend. As soon as Heyes' eyes had shut, a frown of worry had settled across Kid's brow. He was trying hard not to show his concern when Heyes was awake, to reassure his sick partner, but now the fear was there. _You better get well, Heyes. You better start makin' sense soon, because seeing you like this is just about wearing me to a shadow._ He gazed down at his friend's face, hoping to see there some sign of a turn for the better. But Heyes just lay still where he'd collapsed back onto the pillow, sweat beaded on his skin, his face almost as pale as the sheet Kid had pulled up to cover him.

Mrs Reed's words about the marsh fever came back to echo in Kid's mind. _I ain't gonna tell you no lies, Mr Jones. I seen folks mighty sick with it. Seen some die of it._

Kid let out a short, hard breath. _That ain't gonna happen. _He stood up, but his gaze still rested on his friend's ashen face. _I know you can fight this, Heyes. You don't give up easy, even when the odds are stacked. Don't you dare throw in your hand now._ He could feel in one hand the small folded piece of paper that had held the dose of quinine powder Asa Lee had given him, a scarce pinch of whitish dust that could somehow overcome the fever that was burning Heyes' life away. Kid had given Heyes the medicine just as Asa Lee had instructed him to, helped his partner swallow down the powder with a few mouthfuls of water… But it was hard to believe that something so small would work against the illness that had struck his partner down so fiercely. Kid crumpled the empty paper, clenching his hand into a fist. _It had better damn work._


	8. Chapter 8

**One Good Turn - Chapter Eight**

Asa Lee sat in a chair on the cabin's porch, smoking a long-stemmed clay pipe. The evening air was still and a faint cloud of smoke drifted away from him, making a greyish-white smudge in the dusk. Behind him came the quiet sound of the cabin's door opening and closing: footsteps approached, then stopped. Asa let another mouthful of smoke rise and mingle with the gathering darkness, then spoke. "Draw up the other chair, Mr Jones."

Kid stepped into his field of view. He took hold of the back of the empty chair that stood out on the porch, pulled it forward a little, then sat down. He said nothing, folding his arms across his knees and looking out into the gathering night.

"He'll pull through." Asa spoke quietly.

Kid took a deep breath, then let it out: nodded. "Yeah."

"You get all of that second dose of quinine down him?"

Kid nodded again. "He sure didn't like it, but he swallowed it. I made sure."

"That's all you can do, for now."

"Didn't seem like the fever was down much. He was talkin', but he wasn't makin' any kind of sense. Ramblin' on about snakes in the room…" Kid tailed off.

"Sick folks talk about all manner of strange things. But it's just the fever talking." Asa drew on his pipe, making a small red glow in the darkness. "We'll see how he's doing, come the morning. Reckon the fever'll have gone down some by tomorrow."

"Sure hope so."

"Only natural you'd be worried about your friend." Asa sounded matter-of-fact. "But you're doing the best for him you can."

"He'd do the same for me," said Kid. "Has done. More'n once."

"I figured as much." Asa leaned back in his chair. "Seen the way you look out for him. A man doesn't do that for just anyone. Puts me in mind of the war."

Kid looked around at the older man, but Asa's face was barely visible in the growing darkness. After a pause, Asa continued. "We'd bring in the boys off the battlefield, for the surgeons to do their work. Sometimes a man'd come in on another soldier's back, or carried in his arms. Maybe carried for miles, through mud and hellfire. Course, sometimes they'd be kinfolks, gone off to war together. But mostly, just men. Men who knowed each other, or got to know each other by fighting alongside day in, day out. Going through hell together."

Kid said nothing. He wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but it was touching places he wasn't comfortable with.

"Sharing times like that with someone, builds up something real strong between folk." Asa sounded lost in memories now. "You see people dying all around you and you know you can't count on the next man to die not being you. You know you can't count on living long enough to see your home and your kin again. You can't count on waking up tomorrow, walking and breathing on this green earth. The only thing you can count on is the man by your side, the one who'll watch your back and carry you if you fall." His voice was heavy with sadness.

Kid stayed quiet. For some time there was a silence on the porch, broken only by the night sounds around them: the ticking of insects; a soft breeze bringing cooler air.

At last Asa shifted in his chair, then drew on his pipe again. It had gone out: the older man let out a short sound of mild annoyance, then tapped it gently to empty out the dead ashes. "Now that's always a sign of an old man rambling on too long about things younger folk don't want to hear about." He chuckled. "Or so my grandpa always said, when his pipe went out of an evening. You'll have to forgive me, Mr Jones. One of the things you forget when you live alone is that your own opinions aren't as fascinating to strangers as they may be to yourself."

"No need for an apology." Kid spoke obligingly. "What you were saying kinda made sense to me."

"I thought maybe it would." Asa relaxed back again in his chair. "Like I said, you look too young to me to have worn a uniform in the war… But I guess you'd remember it, all the same."

"Yeah. I remember it." _Too much._

"Whereabouts were you living, then?"

Kid thought about giving an untrue answer, but decided against it. He had a feeling that Asa would sense if he was being deceived. "Kansas."

"Your friend from those parts too?"

"Yeah." Kid hoped Asa would leave it at that.

"You must've seen some pretty rough times, during the war… Not to mention, the years leading up to it. Did you live anywhere near the Missouri border?"

"Pretty close."

"Never been to Kansas myself. But I heard tell of the things that went on there. You still got kin in those parts?"

"No." This time Kid couldn't keep what he was feeling out of his voice: his answer was short and emphatic. _Quit prodding me, mister._

There was a brief pause, then Asa spoke again. "My apologies, son. I surely didn't mean to pry."

_Yeah, you did._ "No offence taken. Just…" Kid made an effort to bury the memories; he got control of himself. "Left those days behind me. Don't much see the point in looking back at what's past."

"I can understand that. There's a few things I'd surely like to forget." Asa was quiet for a while, then his chair creaked as he got up. "I can feel the night chill coming on. No good for my old bones. Think I'll go on inside and find out where Hannah's planning for me to sleep."

Kid stood up too. "There's a bed made up on the floor in the room we're using. I could sit up in the chair - "

"No, you couldn't," Asa chuckled. "You should get some sleep, and you won't get that sat up in a chair all night. Could be you'll get woken up by your friend during the night, anyway. Hannah'll find room for me somewhere, don't you worry. She's the most managing woman I know."

oooOOOooo

When Kid returned to the little bedroom in the back of the cabin, he paused beside the bed to check on how his partner was doing. Heyes didn't seem to have moved at all since Kid had left him: he lay still beneath the covers, eyes closed and a fine sheen of sweat still covering his face. Kid let out a long breath, then turned away. Moving quietly, he shucked off his outer clothes, blew out the lamp, then crawled into his makeshift bed on the floor.

Lying on his back, Kid found himself staring up at the darkness, unable to sleep. Helping out around the Reeds' farm and tending to his sick partner had left him feeling weary, but the conversation he'd had out on the porch with Asa Lee was running through his mind.

It seemed like he and Heyes were always having to deal with questions about themselves and their past. They'd both been forced many times to be what Heyes called 'creative with the truth'. Sometimes it was purely a matter of survival: if some nosey lawman started getting interested in them, it made sense to give as little information as possible. Or – and this was a favoured Heyes tactic, Kid had noticed – to give wildly inaccurate but totally believable answers that sent the interested party off on a wild goose chase. More than once Kid had listened with well-concealed amusement as Heyes related to a suspicious questioner a complicated – and totally fictitious - tale about where the two of them had been working previously, or what their plans for the future were. Sometimes Kid wondered how Heyes kept all the stories straight in his head.

But this situation felt different - partly because right now Heyes was out of action. Without his inventive partner's support, Kid felt less confident of his own ability to field the usual difficult inquiries. But also, it was down to who was asking the questions. Asa Lee seemed a decent, straight-talking man; and Mrs Reed had showed her trust by taking them into her home. Kid felt considerably less than comfortable about sticking to his and Heyes' usual cover of aliases and evasiveness… Yet he knew from hard experience that honesty would be a dangerous option, for himself and Heyes, and maybe also for the Reeds and Asa Lee.

_One day it surely would be fine to be able to give a straight answer to a simple question,_ Kid thought. _Quit all this sneaking around, moving on all the time from place to place…_ _Wake up in the morning as Jedidiah Curry and stay that way all day._ He found himself smiling ruefully into the darkness. _That was one thing was a hell of a lot simpler before we decided to go for amnesty. When you're on the wrong side of the law, don't nobody expect you to be anything other than dishonest. Kinda funny that now we're trying to go straight, we spend every day living a lie._

Kid was still smiling when he fell asleep.

oooOOOooo

Morning came with a smell of brewing coffee that crept under the door and roused Kid from the heavy slumber he'd been in. He blinked up at the ceiling a few times; rubbed a hand across his face, then got up.

Heyes was quiet, over in the bed. After getting dressed, Kid glanced across at his partner, then decided to draw back the curtain from the window and let in the early morning light. Turning back from the window, he looked down at his friend. At once he saw a change in the sick man: although still asleep and looking pale and drawn, Heyes was breathing easily and his hair was no longer soaked with sweat. At once Kid felt a surge of hope rise within him. _It looks like the fever's broken._

Quickly Kid moved to the bedroom door and headed out into the cabin, to find Asa. He followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen. The Reeds were seated at the table with Asa, evidently just beginning breakfast. Asa took one look at Kid's face and put down his coffee. "Your friend?"

"I could be wrong, but… Looks like maybe he's taking a turn for the better."

Asa got up from the table. "I'll come take a look." He nodded apologetically to Mrs Reed. "Sorry to walk out on one of your breakfasts, Hannah. This probably won't take but a moment."

Mrs Reed merely rose and placed Asa's plate of food on the edge of the cookstove, covering it over with another plate. "Food'll keep. You go do what needs doin'."

Back in the bedroom, Asa lowered himself onto the chair beside the bed. He gently lifted Heyes' wrist from where it lay on the covers and held it for a while, checking his pulse as he studied the sick man's face. Then he laid Heyes' hand back on the bed and rested a palm lightly across his forehead. Finally he sat back, looking thoughtful.

Kid broke the silence. "How's he doing, Mr Lee?"

Asa turned and nodded at him. "I believe you're right. He's still a little warm, but I'd say your friend's out of the woods." At Kid's smile of relief, Asa added, "Which doesn't mean that he'll be feeling anything close to healthy when he wakes up. He'll get another dose of quinine as soon as we can get it down him, and some this evening; and he'll have to keep on taking it for the next couple of weeks. It's a pretty good medicine, but it has to be taken regular. And he'll need to get plenty of rest."

"That might be difficult," replied Kid. "I'll bet he wants to be up and doin' as soon as he can swing a foot out of that bed."

"Well, he might find he doesn't feel much like doing anything for a while." Asa stood up. "If he really wants to get back on his feet, he'd do better to take things real easy for a few days. Maybe you can convince him."

Kid looked wry. "Mr Lee, I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of things I've convinced my friend here to do, when he was set on doing the opposite. But I'll give it my best shot."

Asa chuckled. "That's all you can do. And there's one more thing." He paused near the door. "The only times in my life I've been 'mistered', as a rule, is by bank managers, lawmen and bartenders. As you don't seem to fall in with any of those worthy specimens of humanity, I think I'd rather you do what most folks round here are accustomed to, which is call me Asa."

"I can do that." Kid smiled. "And I guess Thaddeus would be easier than Mr Jones, too."

Asa nodded. "Good. Now that bit of etiquette's sorted to our satisfaction, I reckon we should oblige our hostess and get ourselves back to that kitchen. It would be the height of impoliteness to let Hannah's biscuits get cold."


	9. Chapter 9

**One Good Turn - Chapter Nine**

After a good breakfast, Kid returned to the bedroom for a long-overdue shave. As he drew his straight-edge razor across his skin, he pondered on how long it would be before Heyes was fit to ride. _Asa reckons a week or so before he's back on his feet. And somehow I've gotta keep Heyes sittin' patient in that bed till then._ He paused, holding the razor away from his face, a wry expression turning up one corner of his mouth. _Sure. No problem. I'll just tie his feet to the bed and sit on his chest for a while. And plug my ears while I'm at it._

As if in response to Kid's musings, Heyes stirred in bed and let out a sigh. Kid glanced over at his friend, then drew the razor across the last strip of soapy stubble on his jaw. Wiping his face with a towel, he laid down the razor and advanced towards the bedside. He said nothing, standing silently over the sick man; but after a second Heyes opened his eyes. Kid smiled. "Hey, partner. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Mhmm…" Heyes blinked up at his friend. His gaze was clear and focussed, although a small frown drew his brows together. "S'it… mornin'?" His voice was husky.

"Yeah." Kid reached for the water jug. "I'll get you a drink."

Heyes looked gratefully at the mug of water that Kid held out. He struggled to raise himself up against the pillows; Kid reached to help him and Heyes gave a momentary grimace of refusal, showing clearly that he wanted to do it on his own. Kid stood back, inwardly noting his partner's orneriness. _Okay. He ain't been awake five minutes and already he's gettin' proddy._ He waited until Heyes had levered himself unsteadily upright, then held out the mug of water. He knew what the answer to the next question he asked would be, but decided to ask it anyway. "Want me to hold the cup for you?"

Heyes gave him a look. "Think I can manage… Thanks all the same, Kid." He took the tin mug and lifted it to his lips: his hand shook a little, but instantly he steadied it and took a drink. Kid waited for him to finish, taking the empty cup when he was done. Heyes let out a long sigh, his eyes closing briefly; then he opened them again and looked up at his friend. "Thanks."

"No problem." Kid set the mug down, then took a seat on the edge of the bed. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like I just finished a four-month cattle drive." Heyes frowned. "How long've I been lying here?"

"Just comin' up to three days."

"Hunh." Heyes shook his head. "Feels like longer." He shifted in bed and winced. "I'm so stiff it feels like I've taken root in here." He stopped, and looked around the room. "Speaking of which, where exactly is here?"

"How much d'you remember?" Kid asked.

Heyes gave him a considering look. "I remember us setting out from Garnerville, for Lawton. And riding down some kinda slope…" He frowned again. "Did my horse throw me or somethin'?"

"Well, you did fall off your horse." Kid nodded. "But the reason you ended up here is because you got sick."

"I got sick?" This seemed to come as a revelation to Heyes. "I don't get sick."

"Well, much as I hate to contradict you, Heyes, you did get sick. Real sick. With marsh fever. I had to bring you here, get you under some cover."

"Which brings me back to my original question." Heyes levelled a look at his friend. "Here being where, exactly?"

"This is a farmstead. Belongs to a lady called Mrs Reed. Lives here with her two kids: she took us in when we showed up three nights ago. Just as well she did, too; shape you were in, I doubt we'd ever have made it to Lawton." Heyes was quiet for a moment, apparently considering his friend's reply. Kid spoke again. "You remember gettin' here? Talkin' to Mrs Reed?" Heyes pursed his lips, widening his eyes and lifting his brows in a negative. "You don't remember handing over our guns?"

That got a reaction. "You gave her our _guns?"_

"No: that was kinda your idea. I just went along with it to keep the peace. Seemed like the best move at the time."

"Kid, are you sure you're telling this right?"

"That's the way it happened." Kid kept his face straight, inwardly enjoying his friend's consternation. "You gave up your gun, so I followed along. Then we got you undressed and into bed - "

"Wait a minute… Who undressed me? Her or you?"

"It was kind of a joint project." Kid was grinning on the inside now. "Mrs Reed gave you a good dose of medicine she brewed up, and we settled you down. Then you pretty much spent the next couple of days crazy with fever, talkin' about all kinds of wild stuff."

Heyes looked torn between disbelief and alarm. "Wild stuff? What kind of wild stuff?"

"Oh, nothing that made any kind of sense… You were ravin' about fires and suchlike." Kid let his inner grin appear on his face. "And snakes."

"Snakes?"

"That's what you said, yesterday. Told me there was a snake in the bed with you." Kid folded his arms. "Partner, I'm telling you: you were pretty out of it."

Heyes appeared to be lost for words. Kid relished the rarity value of the moment.

At last, Heyes spoke. "Well…" He looked disconcerted. Swallowing, he looked at Kid with suddenly worried eyes. "While I was talking all this… wild stuff, did I say anything… I shouldn't have, to anyone?"

Kid realised at once what Heyes' anxiety was about. For three days Kid had been stretched taught under the tension of caring for his friend, not knowing if he was going to pull through. Now Heyes was on the road to recovery, Kid was letting some of that tension go by teasing his friend a little... But he didn't want to set back that recovery by causing Heyes any real stress. Quickly he reassured him, "No. It's okay. You didn't blow our cover."

Heyes slumped a little in relief against the pillow, letting his eyes close. Kid had a sudden pang of guilt, looking at his friend's wan face. He was quiet until Heyes opened his eyes and spoke again.

"So… What kind of situation are we in?" He looked weary, but determined to get a grip on all the facts. "Who knows we're here?"

Kid shrugged. "Like I said, Mrs Reed took us in. Her and her two kids, son and a daughter, live here. A neighbour of hers, name of Asa Lee, rode on over yesterday. He's somethin' of a doctor, been looking after you."

" 'Somethin' of a doctor'?" Heyes queried. "What are we talking - horse doctor? Medicine man?"

"He knows what he's doing," Kid answered. "I watched him workin' on you. He did better than some of the fancy doctors in suits we've come across. He's a good man." He nodded at the door. "He's still here. Figures on staying around at least another day, make sure you're really gettin' better."

"Uh huh." Heyes nodded slowly. "So it's just the Reed family and this Asa Lee who know we're here?"

"Yeah."

"How far did we get towards Lawton, anyhow?"

"We're about half a day's ride from town, as far as I can figure."

Heyes considered this information. "I guess it might take us a little longer than that. After layin' here in bed for three days, I sure don't feel much like getting on a horse."

Kid inwardly debated whether to sugar-coat the bad news, then decided it wouldn't work. "This Asa fella… He says you're gonna need to take things real easy for a few days, partner. He reckons you should rest up for maybe a week or so."

Heyes looked incredulous. "A week? Kid, I'll admit I don't feel so good right now… But it's nothing a little sleep and something to eat won't cure." He pushed himself upright from the pillows, lifting a forefinger to point at his friend. "And if you think…" His voice tailed off as he began a slow tilt away from the vertical, the little colour he had in his face draining away.

Kid made a quick grab, catching his partner by the shoulders before he fell out of bed. Carefully he eased the semi-conscious man back to lie flat, leaning over him until he saw Heyes' eyes flicker and come back to awareness again. Kid gave him a long, deliberate look. "Unless you plan on getting acquainted with the floor, I reckon you'd best just lay there a while."

"Mhm…" Heyes blinked up at him, his face still colourless. "Is the room… spinnin', or is that just me?"

"The room ain't spinnin'," Kid replied. "But you try getting out of bed and you will be. Just take it easy, partner. There's no need for us to go anywhere. The Reeds are easy-going folk, and Asa seems decent. We're good here, for a while."

Heyes swallowed, shutting his eyes. "Y'know, Kid… Think I might need to get my strength up a little more… Before I'm ready to get up."

"I think so too." Kid reached out and patted his friend gently on the shoulder. "It's okay, Heyes. I can handle what needs doing, till you're back on your feet again."

Kid left his partner in peace, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind him. Heyes kept his eyes closed, waiting for the spinning sensation in his head to settle down. His brief venture into sitting up had been an uncomfortable experience in more ways than one. Physically he felt disorientated: not only by the giddiness that had laid him back prone on the bed, but the unnerving weakness in his muscles. He'd been ill before, and gunshot too, but the lack of strength he felt now was alarming. Also alarming was the news that he'd been lying there for three days, unaware of what had been going on around him.

_Wonder if Kid's right about us being safe here,_ he thought. _Maybe this Mrs Reed and her neighbour are decent enough folks… But twenty thousand dollars is an awful lot of temptation, if they find out who we really are. Or if another neighbour happens to come callin' who ain't so decent._

Heyes sometimes didn't like the way his own mind worked; and this was one of those times. _Kid said we were good here. So I ought to trust his judgement._ _It's not like I can do a whole lot about it right now, anyway. Feels like the only way I'd get out of this room at the moment is on all fours._

Still the worry nagged at him: he wanted to rely on Kid's assessment of the situation, to trust the people who'd taken them in; but after years of life handing him the dirty end of the stick, trust was something Heyes had a small amount of… And what little he'd managed to hold onto, he gave out sparingly. _Guess I'll just have to keep a watchful eye on the situation._

Having reached this decision, Heyes fell asleep.

oooOOOooo

"Mr Smith? Joshua?"

Someone was shaking his shoulder, gently. Heyes went all the way from unconscious to wide awake in an instant. He found himself staring up into the face of a grey-haired man, his heart hammering as he started upright from the pillow. "Wha - "

The man's hand rested on his shoulder, a reassuring look in the stranger's eyes. "Easy there, son. Didn't mean for to startle you."

Heyes kept his gaze fixed on the man. Something about the stranger's face was knocking vaguely at the doors of his memory. "Do I… know you?"

The man chuckled. "We've met. But you could say, we weren't properly introduced." He held out a hand. "Name's Asa Lee. You can call me Asa."

Fuzzily, Heyes blinked, then took the extended hand and shook it. "Pleased to… meet you." The confusion of being roused from sleep took over. "Uh… And _who_ are you?"

Asa smiled. "I live nearby. Mrs Reed fetched me over, to see if I could be of any use with you being sick and all."

"Oh." Recollection finally started to bring thoughts to where Heyes could make use of them. A memory of a conversation he'd had with Kid filtered through the haziness in his mind… _He said something about someone called Asa Lee… and a lady called Mrs Reed... _"You're the doctor… or somethin'… that my friend told me about?"

"I'd be gratified to be called a doctor," replied Asa. "Put simple, folks round here call on me from time to time, if they need some healing doing."

"Uh huh." Heyes nodded, then blinked at the giddy turn the room took after he moved his head. "Whoa…"

"You alright?" Asa was watching him closely. Heyes almost nodded again, but caught himself in time.

"Yeah…" He considered a moment, then amended his answer. "Well… Have to say, I've had days when I've woken up feelin' better than this."

"I'll bet." Asa acknowledged Heyes' understatement. "Considerin' the fever you were running when I got here, you're looking more chipper than I reckoned you'd be." He regarded him with an assessing look. "How're you feeling? Any pain anywhere?"

"No…" Heyes, uncomfortable with being questioned whilst lying down, began to push himself up into a sitting position against his pillow – and winced. "…Uh, that is… Not much."

Asa nodded. "Feeling kinda stiff? Tuckered out?"

"Yeah." Heyes finally got himself more or less propped up, placing his hands carefully to keep himself steady. Moving had brought on a sweat that he could feel cold on his skin, but he felt better about talking now he was upright. "I guess lying here a couple days, I'm bound to be a little out of condition."

"Absolutely." Asa nodded again, more slowly and seriously this time. "And as I'm sure your friend Thaddeus has already told you, you're going to be lying here a good few days more."

"Well, I don't know about that." Heyes decided to head this suggestion off at the pass. "I reckon I might be feeling up to getting about, by tomorrow. Y'know, a change of scene, a little fresh air – all good for a convalescent!" He tried smiling brightly, to emphasize his words.

Asa's eyes fixed on him. "Joshua," he said quietly, "do you have an idea of how sick you were when I came here?" Heyes said nothing, silenced by the older man's steady gaze. "You were this far off - " Asa held up one hand, forefinger and thumb a fraction apart " – from making your peace with the good Lord."

_Well, that'd be a conversation worth listening in on,_ thought Heyes. _I'd sure have a few things to set straight with Him. That's always assumin' it's the good Lord I'd be meeting with, and not the other guy._

Asa continued. "Your fever's come down and you're looking a little better, but make no mistake about it, son: you need to rest plenty. Marsh fever ain't to be fooled with. You'll need to take the quinine every day, eat well, and sleep when you can. Even with doing all that, it'll be a good while before you feel anything like your old self. Overdo things and you'll set yourself back. And you can expect to have some relapses from time to time anyhow, even with doing all I've just told you."

Heyes listened to this prognosis glumly. "So… what you're saying is, I gotta stay in this bed? But even if I do, like as not I'm going to feel worse again before I feel better?"

"That's about the size of it," agreed the older man.

"Well…" Heyes looked stymied for a full three seconds – then his eyes lifted wryly to meet the other man's gaze. "I'm real grateful for everything you've done for me, Mr Lee... uh, Asa. Just, don't take it personal if I say what you just told me ain't the most happifying news I ever heard."

The older man nodded understandingly. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings. But look on the bright side: you're a fit young man, and if you just let yourself heal you'll be back to full strength before you know it." He paused. "And though I'll sound like a curmudgeonly old cuss, I'll tell you: maybe you should just count your blessings. Not everyone that takes sick with marsh fever lives to tell the tale. I've seen men as strong as you go into the ground from it."

The shot went home: Heyes fell silent. Asa turned at the bedside and reached for a folded paper and the tin mug of water. "And on that happifying note - " he let a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth " – I've another dose of medicine here for you to take."

Heyes eyed the folded paper. "What's that?"

"This," Asa unfolded the paper to show the white powder, "is quinine. It's what I and your friend Thaddeus have given you a couple of times already. It doesn't taste so good, but it'll fix what's ailing you." He leaned over. "Once it's in your mouth, best to take a drink of water straight off and keep drinking till it's all swallowed down."

Heyes had an uneasy sense that he knew exactly what _doesn't taste so good_ was going to mean in reality: as soon as Asa had tipped the powder onto his tongue his worst fears were confirmed. A violent bitterness filled his mouth, so that even as he tried quickly to swallow it down with a mouthful of water he was almost gagging on the taste. He kept the cup at his lips, drinking and swallowing again and again until all the water was gone. Reluctantly he lowered the empty cup and looked at Asa with a grimace. "When you said that wasn't gonna taste too good… You sure weren't whistling Dixie."

Asa took the empty mug from his hand. "Care for a little more water?"

"If that's the best that's on offer, I'll take it." Heyes waited until the mug had been refilled, then drank again. Even after this second cupful was gone, an all-pervading bitter taste sat at the back of his throat like the ghost of a heavy night's drinking. "Consarn it… And that's the stuff you say I've gotta swallow every day?"

Asa gave him a wry smile. "Twice a day. Morning and evening." He took the empty mug again and set it aside. "I figure it may not be the best time to ask, but how's your appetite?"

"Well, before I tasted that stuff it was perking up." Heyes swallowed once more.

"It'd help to get a little food inside you. I'll find out what the lady of the house can provide." Asa got up. "I'll see if your friend is around, too."

"What time of day is it?" Heyes asked, as the older man moved to the door.

Asa slid his watch out of his pocket. "Little after half-past eleven." He replaced the watch, and with a friendly nod exited the room.

Left to himself, Heyes let his head rest back against the pillow. His mind, thoroughly wakened now, was starting to turn over the things Asa had said; trying to reconcile them with odd scraps of memories from the past few days that were starting to surface. The bitter taste that still hung insistently in his mouth was nauseatingly familiar, although he couldn't remember taking his previous doses. _Kid said I'd been here going on three days. And Asa reckons I'll need to lie up a few more before I'll be fit to get on my feet._ Heyes frowned. Privately, he resolved there and then that Asa's 'good few days' would be no more than two. Three at the absolute outside. He felt a little more cheerful at having made this important decision. _A fella gets sick, stands to reason he'd need a little bed-rest. But no need to go crazy with it._

After a while, which Heyes passed profitably by alternately gazing at the patch of sky visible through the window and falling into a doze, the bedroom door creaked open and Kid leaned cautiously inside. "You awake?"

"Sure." Heyes pushed himself upright again, responding to his friend's broadening grin with a smile of his own. "Just restin' my eyes a minute."

Kid came into the room, pulling the stool up to sit beside the bed. "How're you doin'?"

"Fair to middlin'." Heyes gestured at the window. "Just laying here, watching the world go by."

"Nice work if you can get it," commented Kid. "You anything like hungry? Mrs Reed's fixing some food to bring in to you."

"Kid, of all the things you've said to me, that has to be one of the nicest."

"Happy to be of service. There anything else you need?"

"Feel like I could sure use a wash and a shave. Don't know what kind of a job I'll make of it stuck sitting in this bed, though."

"Well, maybe if you ask Mrs Reed real nice, she'd do it for you." Kid grinned again. "With your winning ways of speaking to women, I'm sure she'd be glad to oblige."

"Thanks - but I'll do it myself." Heyes shook his head. "Only two people I like holding a blade near my throat are a barber, or me."

"I'll find your razor," said Kid. "I guess Mrs Reed can scare you up some hot water and suchlike, after you've had somethin' to eat."

Heyes looked at Kid's rolled-up shirtsleeves. "You been working at something?" Then his eyes fell on a thin strip of clean rag bound around his friend's finger. "Let me guess… Repairing a barn or somesuch?"

"Fixin' a well cover." Kid looked at him quizzically. "How'd you figure that?"

"Kid, you may be dangerous with a gun, but you're even more dangerous with a hammer."

Kid looked offended. "Well, you ain't exactly a master carpenter yourself."

"Nope. And that isn't a thought that keeps me awake at night." Heyes gestured at the makeshift bandage. "So you been keeping busy while I've been out of action?"

"Been lending a hand around the farm." Kid shrugged. "Just Mrs Reed and her kids runnin' the place, so there's no shortage of jobs need doing. Figured it was the least I could do, after her takin' us in and all. She's a mighty upright lady: I offered to pay our way but she wouldn't take a dime."

"Sounds like you've taken quite a shine to her," grinned Heyes. "Must be some woman, to get you breaking your back – and your thumbs – on farmwork. Can't wait to meet her."

At that moment there was a tap on the door, which swung open to reveal Mrs Reed carrying in a tray. She set the tray down, then stepped up to the bedside. Her eyes took in Kid, who hastily rose to offer her the stool to sit on, then moved to Heyes. The dark-haired outlaw looked up at her like a guilty schoolboy, fixed by the woman's unwavering gaze.

Kid decided to take the initiative. "Uh, Joshua, this here's Mrs Reed."

Heyes, abashed by the possibility that the tail-end of his conversation with Kid might have been overheard, tried for some damage limitation. Donning his most charming smile, he tried to sit up as respectfully as possible. "Ma'am, I'd like to thank you for taking me and my friend here into your house. I'm beholden to you."

"Wouldn't turn a sick man away from my door," replied Mrs Reed shortly. She reached for the tray. "Reckon you could eat a little chicken broth, Mr Smith?"

"I'll give it a try," answered Heyes, still keeping his company smile in place.

"Got some tea here for you to drink down, first." Mrs Reed held a tin mug, from which a wisp of steam and a familiar acrid herbal smell arose. As the smell reached him, Heyes' smile slipped a notch. "Now do y' need me to help, or can you keep a hold of it?"

His smile definitely fixed in place now, Heyes gave an involuntary shake of the head. "Uh, no, ma'am - I can manage."

Mrs Reed proffered the mug: after a moment's pause, Heyes took it and lifted it towards his mouth. As the pungent brew got close, Kid saw his partner's nose twitch. Just for a second, Heyes looked as though he was about to come up with a last-ditch excuse for avoiding his medicine… But Mrs Reed spoke again. "You drink that down whilst it's good and hot, Mr Smith."

Resolutely Heyes brought the mug to his lips, and took a mouthful. The expression on his face changed to one that left Kid in no doubt that the tea tasted as bad as it smelled. Swallowing hard, Heyes blinked down at the mug, then turned his gaze almost beseechingly on Mrs Reed. Before he could speak, she nodded at the mug. "Go on, now. No good taking just that little mouthful. You finish it all up."

Kid had seen his partner face down hard outlaws, drunk knife fighters, angry card sharps and armed lawmen; but confronted by Mrs Reed's stern expression, Heyes crumbled like a soggy biscuit. Lifting the mug back to his mouth, Heyes drank the rest of the herbal dose down in four gulping swallows. When he lowered the empty mug and passed it back to Mrs Reed, Heyes' mouth was set in a wry twist that caused a correspondingly wide grin to form on Kid's face.

"Now you can take a little soup. You've had nothing for three days, so best to eat it slow." Mrs Reed placed the tray with the bowl of chicken broth across the bed, and handed Heyes a spoon. "I'll leave it with you. Mr Jones can bring it along when you're done." With that she got up, nodded at Kid, and left them alone in the room.

There was a distinct pause. Heyes looked at the door, carefully listening to the sound of Mrs Reed's footsteps dying away. When there was no possible doubt that she had gone out of earshot, his gaze shifted to Kid. "What're you lookin' so pleased about?"

"Nothin'. I was just admirin' the way that little lady got you doing just what she says." Kid grinned. "Think maybe I should see if I can pick up any tips from her."

Heyes regarded his friend for a moment, then pursed his lips. "Huh… It was either drink that potion she was giving me, or drown in it. Besides, it ain't polite to argue with a lady."

"Whatever you say, Heyes." Kid's grin was even wider now. "Maybe this fever you've been sick with has done you some good. I don't think I've ever seen you act so obliging before."

Heyes opened his mouth to make a retort – then appeared to reconsider. He raised his eyebrows in a mock wounded look. "What a thing to say to a sick man. Where's your compassion, Kid?"

Kid snorted. "Hey, you're on the mend now. I'm done playing nursemaid. The sooner you get back on your feet, the better."

"Well, I'm not gonna argue with you on that one." Heyes shook his head. "There's been times on the trail when all I've thought about is lying in a nice, soft bed… But I feel like I could stand any amount of fresh air, right now."

"Just remember: Asa said you'd need to rest a few days, before getting up and about."

"I do recall him saying that." Heyes smiled with the confidence of a man who has already made up his own mind. "And I'm surely touched by his concern. But if you think I'm going to lie here being dosed regular with that hell brew, you've got another think coming."

"You get chicken soup too," Kid pointed out, still smiling. "Ain't like it's all bad."

"Uh huh." Heyes regarded the bowlful of broth with a more friendly aspect. "Which is going cold as we speak. So I'll set to, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead. I already ate." Kid sat down on the stool and relaxed to lean back against the wall.

oooOOOooo

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Kid continued with his work around the farm, finishing the well cover and lending a hand to Ginny and Will to feed and water the stock in the barn at the end of the day. Once again he ate a quiet supper around the table with the Reeds and Asa Lee; Mrs Reed took another bowl of soup – and the inevitable fever tea - through to Heyes. After supper Heyes received his evening dose of quinine, which he swallowed with even less enthusiasm than Mrs Reed's herbal brew. Kid sat with his friend but Heyes, evidently short of energy on his first day of convalescence, soon fell into a doze.

Going out onto the porch, Kid found Asa sitting out there once again with his pipe. He pulled up a chair and sat not far from the old man, as he'd done before. Faint sounds of Mrs Reed clearing away in the kitchen drifted out into the summer night; close by in the gloom on the porch Rip scratched vigorously at himself, snuffled the boards of the porch floor, then flopped down to lie still near Asa's feet.

"Your friend looks to be pickin' up nicely." Asa spoke first into the quietness. "Reckon I'll be heading back to my place tomorrow morning, if his fever don't raise any in the night."

Kid nodded. "Sure."

"Make sure he doesn't miss any doses of the quinine. Or try to do too much too soon."

"Do my best." Kid shifted in his chair, easing muscles stiff from his day's work around the farm. "I was wonderin'… What you'd take for helping us out. 'F it was a regular doc, he'd be presentin' us with a bill about now. And we got a little money."

"Well now." Asa sounded considering. "Seeing as how I often drop by here to be neighbourly anyways, and Hannah's kept me well-fed during my visit… It's not as if you and your friend have put me to overmuch trouble. Why don't we say, if you got enough to cover the cost of replacing my little store of quinine, that'd see us straight and easy."

"We'll do that and gladly," replied Kid. "But that don't give you nothin' for yourself."

"Truth be told, Thaddeus, I don't need anything for myself. I don't do the doctoring for profit, unless you call keeping myself in good countenance with my neighbours and my conscience profit of a sort. I don't want for anything: a man living alone can live off the land easy enough, and with my trapping and such I can trade for the things I need. When folks are hog killing or harvesting I often find something left on my porch, a kindly thanksgiving from someone I've helped in the past. I'm well provided for."

Kid smiled. "Well then… I guess it'll just have to be a new bottle of quinine, and our thanks to be going on with."

"That suits me fine." Asa drew peaceably on his pipe. "We'll call it square."


	10. Chapter 10

**One Good Turn - Chapter Ten**

The following morning, Asa checked on a convalescing Heyes and confirmed his steady progress. With a final admonition to his patient to take things easy, the healer made his farewells and set off back to his own home, with a promise to call by again in the near future.

For the next two days life settled down into a predictable pattern. Kid rose early each morning and breakfasted with the Reeds, before setting about the farm chores with Ginny, Will and Mrs Reed. As well as sharing their day-to-day tasks, Kid found a host of jobs which spoke of the farm's lack of manpower: much-needed repairs to tools, fences and buildings; roof shingles come loose or rotted through in need of replacement; scrub woodland starting to encroach on cropland, needing to be grubbed out. He set to with a determination that surprised not only himself but his partner as well.

For Heyes in his bed, the hours passed tortuously slowly. The weariness he'd been left with by the fever was slow to abate, and he found that even the slightest exertion could bring on a wave of light-headedness that made lying down flat with eyes closed the only cure. He passed the time as best he could: dozing on and off through the daylight hours; gazing up at the ceiling or out of the window at clouds drifting through the patch of sky; running through his thoughts in solitude, playing mental games, trying to recall books he'd read, places he'd been, until the boredom began to nag at him worse than the weariness.

Mrs Reed's regular appearance with his meals on a tray broke up the monotony a little, although conversation did not flow easily between them. Feeling at something of a disadvantage both by his position in her bedroom and the debt of gratitude he owed, Heyes tried too hard to be polite: his compliments on her care, the food and even the fever tea she brewed started to sound a little forced even to his own ears. For her part, Mrs Reed made short replies and little conversation… But her steady gaze left Heyes under no doubt that she wasn't to be courted with flowery words.

Kid's company at the beginning and end of the day came as a welcome distraction, but also reinforced Heyes' sense of uselessness at being stuck lying in bed. By the morning of the third day, he had just about run through his stock of patience.

Kid left the room, heading off to start work around the farm. Heyes waited a full five minutes after his friend had gone, determined not to have any interruptions to his plans. Mrs Reed had been and gone with breakfast (accompanied by the inevitable fever tea and dose of quinine, which Heyes was beginning to regard with a loathing he'd so far only ever experienced for childhood medicines) and the house was quiet.

_Okay. Time to shake a leg._ Heyes pushed back the covers, and swung his legs out of bed. His bare feet found the floor, the boards cool under his toes. He rested them there for a moment and looked across the room. His trousers, shirt and socks lay on a shelf, three steps away. Underneath the shelf stood his boots. _There you go. All ready and waiting._

Pushing himself up off the bed, Heyes rose to his feet. For a moment it felt as though his head was following a little slower than the rest of his body: blinking, he gave it a moment to catch up, then stepped purposefully towards his clothes. Though it was only three paces, it felt like a long way. The shelf looked sturdy and he leaned on it for a moment when he got there, catching his breath. With his free hand he picked up his clothes. _See? Nothing to it._

Satisfied by his success so far, he pressed his luck and bent down to pick up his boots. As he straightened up again the room seemed to rock sideways: quickly he planted his elbow onto the shelf and hung onto it for a while, until things steadied again.

A couple of minutes passed. Heyes let out a long breath. Sweat was damp on his face, but the room had stopped swaying. Cautiously he let go of the shelf and headed back to the relative safety of the bed.

Getting dressed proved another challenge. Twice he buttoned his shirt awry and had to start over; and pulling on his boots proved a labour that had to be undertaken with frequent pauses for rest and recuperation. After struggling for some minutes, hands growing increasingly shaky, Heyes felt like nothing so much as a child getting dressed on his own for the first time. The feeling threatened to overwhelm his determination to carry out this plan to be up and active: suddenly the bed with its soft pillows and snowy sheets was starting to look almost attractive again. A little voice of doubt was beginning to creep in: _Maybe just one more day lying down wouldn't hurt._

Before the little voice could gain the upper hand, Heyes resolutely stood up. A few steps got him to the door; he turned the handle, opened it and was out.

Crossing the dim empty room beyond, he made for a doorway opposite. It gave onto the kitchen, which was also empty of people. Glancing at the scrubbed table and the cookstove, Heyes maintained his determined progress, walking to another door that he guessed led outdoors. He pushed it open and stepped outside on to the porch. The brightness of daylight made him pause and raise one hand to shade his eyes a little: for a moment he came to a halt, just standing and breathing in the fresh morning air.

The yard before the house stretched away to the barn. Heyes could see a chicken pen, a rail fence and a well-head close by. As he stood taking in the view, he became aware that the new-found energy that had got him this far was now taking flight: his legs were starting to feel like they wanted no further part in keeping him upright. Looking around, he spotted a couple of chairs on the porch. A few more unsteady steps got him to where he could gratefully sink down into one and catch his breath. Not that he should need to catch his breath, after walking the few yards from his bed to out here… But his head felt curiously light and airy, his heart was thudding, and he was breathing as hard as though he'd run half a mile.

For some time Heyes did nothing but sit and watch the world go by. Or the clouds go by, anyway. A gentle breeze blew and cooled his face nicely; gradually his heart slowed to something near normal and he began to feel a little better. _A little fresh air is all I needed. A man can't stay stuck on his back in bed forever. Sure, I felt kinda unsteady when I first got out here, but that's just being out of practice with being upright._

A footfall made his head turn: Mrs Reed appeared around the corner of the house, carrying a basket. As she gained the porch steps she noticed him sitting in the chair. Feeling oddly like a truant, Heyes tried a smile. "Morning, ma'am."

"Mornin'." Mrs Reed came steadily up the steps.

"Thought I'd get up and get a little fresh air." Heyes felt obliged to explain his presence. "Figure I spent enough time lyin' in bed."

"Bed's the place to be if'n you're sick." Mrs Reed spoke with her usual succinctness.

"Surely. But after all the good care I been getting, think I'm ready to be on my feet again." Heyes smiled again. "I never was one for sitting around with nothin' to do."

Mrs Reed regarded him assessingly. "The Devil finds work for idle hands," she commented.

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes felt it safer not to elaborate on this.

"Well. Reckon you're up to doin' a little something whilst you're sittin' there?" Mrs Reed asked.

"Uh, sure."

Mrs Reed set the basket down on the porch floor. "How're you at shelling peas, Mr Smith?"

oooOOOooo

When Kid returned to the house for the noon meal, he was greeted by the sight of his partner sitting on the porch in company with a basket, a dishpan, and hands full of pea pods. He climbed the steps and stopped to lean on the porch rail, regarding Heyes with amusement. "Now that's a quite a picture."

Heyes leaned back in his chair and shot him a look. "What? You never seen a man shell peas before?"

"I never seen you do anything with peas before, except eat 'em."

"Just lending Mrs Reed a hand, is all." Heyes fired peas into a dishpan and tossed the empty pod to one side. "Figured I may as well make myself useful."

"You gonna be doin' a little quilting later on?" Kid was grinning now.

"That's real funny. I'll bear that joke in mind when it comes to seeing who gets the most peas to eat, come supper time."

Kid pulled up the other chair, giving a sidelong look at his friend as he sat down. "Didn't expect to find you sitting out here."

"Well, you know me, Kid. Always full of surprises."

"Figured you might take at least another day to rest up."

"If I laid in that bed any longer, I was about to go crazy."

"Maybe you oughta be just a little more patient."

"Oh, this is me bein' patient." Heyes was smiling, but Kid recognised the glint of determination in his friend's dark eyes. "I've been lying in there on my back being real patient, Kid. I reckon I know the cracks in that bedroom ceiling like they were old friends. And between you, me and the bedpost, if I didn't get a change of view, I was likely to stop being patient real soon."

"Couldn't you just lay in there and read or somethin'?"

"Only two books this family owns are a Monkey Ward catalogue and the Bible. One of 'em's short on plot, and the other one's long on smiting. Either way, they really don't hold my attention."

"Well, what do you expect me to do about it, Heyes?"

"Not a thing. I'm just letting you know why I decided to get up out of bed. So pass me some more peas and quit arguing."

Kid regarded him soberly. His friend had been recovering now for going on three days: the fierce fever and shivering fits seemed to be past, and with rest and the gradual return of his appetite Heyes had lost the deadly pallor that his illness had given him. But the effects of the fever still showed in the shadows lurking under his eyes and the hollows in his cheeks. Despite Heyes' confident words, he still didn't look like a healthy man.

Kid pursed his lips. "Well, I know anything I say won't make a damn's worth of difference… But just remember what Asa said. You need to take things easy, partner. No sense in pushin' yourself too hard and winding up back where you started." He stood, pushing back his chair. "I'm gonna wash up 'fore lunch."

"Uh huh." Heyes appeared to be concentrating hard on the peas he was shelling, and made no other response to Kid's suggestions about his health. Kid gave a single shake to his head, then headed indoors.


	11. Chapter 11

**One Good Turn - Chapter Eleven**

As it was Heyes' first meal at the table with the Reed family, he found himself subject to keen scrutiny from both Will and Ginny during the course of lunch. Conscious of Mrs Reed, he made an effort to keep on his best company manners, speaking only to pass dishes of food, or to make politely innocuous comments about the fine weather. His early experiences in grifting had left Heyes with a keen ability to observe and evaluate people… But he had a strong sense of Mrs Reed being equally gifted in that area. Which made him less than comfortable. _Sure, Kid's been making himself useful about the farm. And I've been pretty harmless, lying back there in bed for a week. But she knows that we're not the real deal. Somehow she knows. Question is, what does she think we are?_

After lunch Kid returned to his work outside. Heyes rose from the table and gave Mrs Reed what he hoped was a winning smile. "Well, ma'am, as I'm at a loose end… Maybe I could wash those dishes for you, and see to anything else you need doing about the place?"

Mrs Reed regarded him levelly. "You wash many dishes, young man?"

Heyes smiled a little broader. "Well, as it happens, not real often, no. But I can turn my hand to most things."

"That I can believe," Mrs Reed replied dryly. "You go on ahead. But don't you go breaking anything."

"Oh, I'll be careful." Heyes assured her. Mrs Reed nodded and made to leave the room, then paused in the doorway. "When you've washed the dishes, you could split some more kindling and fill the wood box by the stove. Wood pile's round the back. But only if you find you're up to doing it. Wouldn't want you to do too much and fix yourself back into bed."

"No, ma'am." Heyes kept the smile on his face until she'd left him alone in the kitchen, whereupon a more thoughtful expression replaced it. _Seems like everyone round here's got the notion I need telling what not to do._

oooOOOooo

The dishes washed and stacked to dry, Heyes headed out and round the back of the house, where he found the firewood stack with the axe on the chopping block. Eating a good lunch and being out in the open air had given him a sense of well being and growing energy that brought a genuine smile back to his face. Rolling up his shirt sleeves he tugged the axe free of the block, set up a log and swung the axe round and down. The wood split with a satisfying _chock!_, the two halves falling to the ground. As Heyes bent to pick them up, a satisfied whistling began to issue from his lips.

Falling into a rhythm, Heyes split a good-sized heap of kindling. He set the axe down on the block and began loading the barrow. Hefting the axe had worked up something of a sweat on him, but the breeze blowing past was cooling and it felt good to be active again. Balancing the last pieces of wood on the barrow, he took its handles and wheeled it round to the house door, then carried the wood indoors an armful at a time.

He had stacked the last armful against the stove and straightened up, when a wave of dizziness ran over him like cold water. The kitchen swung around him as he flung out one arm, just managing to grab the edge of the table to save himself from falling. His legs shook: folding both arms onto the table top he rested his head on them and breathed deep, swallowing hard against the thudding of his heart which seemed to be trying to hammer its way out of his chest. It took long seconds before the thudding slowed a little and the rushing in his ears quieted down. The room seemed to steady but Heyes kept his head down for the time being, in no hurry to repeat the experience. Then a young voice asked in worried tones, "Are you okay, Mr Smith?"

Heyes lifted his head, straightening up slightly more rapidly than his body was happy with. Will stood in the doorway, regarding him with wide-eyed concern. "Should I go fetch my ma?"

Heyes stood fully upright, managing a reassuring smile despite the haziness that still lingered in his head. "No! I'm okay." He took a deep breath, willing it to be so. "Just… took a little spell there, for a second."

Will studied him soberly. "You look kinda - pale."

"Nothing that won't pass in a minute," Heyes responded cheerfully, but kept one hand on the back of the chair nearest him. With his other hand he gestured at the wood box. "Just finished stocking up your mother's stovewood." Will looked at the wood pile, then back to the man still leaning on the chair. Heyes had an idea. "Y'know, Will – I was figuring I'd get my things from my saddlebags, haven't had a chance to sort through 'em since I got here. Would you know where they are?"

"Sure." Will nodded. "Your friend Mr Jones put them out back in the lean-to. Want me to fetch them?"

"That'd be handy," replied Heyes, smiling at the boy. "If you bring them out on your front porch, then I can sit out there and put things in order." Will grinned back and hastened away. As soon as he was out of sight Heyes lowered his head again, letting out a sigh. Then he straightened up again, more slowly this time, before walking cautiously out of the kitchen.

Will returned quickly to the porch with the saddlebags, holding them out to the now seated man. Heyes smiled at the boy. "Thanks." He turned back the flap on one of the leather bags and began to take out his things, watched by the boy. Kid had fetched his friend a few necessities - such as shaving kit - but most of what Heyes possessed was still in there, in a state of confusion compounded by the few days of horse travel and Kid's subsequent rummaging whilst Heyes had been still confined to bed.

Heyes' face pulled into an unconscious frown as he straightened things out, intent on restoring an order of sorts. He was by no means persnickety about things being just so – being an outlaw had given him a tolerance for a certain amount of anarchy – but in an unpredictable, often makeshift and sometimes downright dangerous life, keeping his own gear in some sort of tidy state went a long way to keeping him in right mind with himself and the world. Absorbed in his task, he forgot the presence of Will until he glanced up to find the boy leaning on the porch rail, watching him at his work. He smiled at the youngster. "You seem to find me tidying my gear an interesting sight."

Will looked abashed. "Didn't mean to be nosy."

"That's all right." Heyes began methodically stowing his belongings back into the saddlebags. "No-one ever took any harm from being looked at." _Well, not unless it's a lawman doing the looking, that is._

Will leaned forward a little, encouraged by this. "Are them playing cards?"

"Yeah." Heyes nodded.

Will regarded the pack of cards with interest. "How come you carry them around with you?"

Heyes smiled again. "Well… It passes the time, playing a few games with my friend Thaddeus every now and then." He saw the curiosity in the boy's eyes, and on an impulse picked the deck up and held it out. "Want to take a look?"

Will took the cards a little hesitantly, with both hands. Turning them over, he slowly began to leaf through them, one at a time, pausing to look at the pictures on the court cards. Then one card slipped through his fingers: he made a grab at it and in doing so spilled the whole deck onto the porch. He let out a gasp, dropping to his knees onto the wooden boards to rescue the scattered cards.

Heyes bent forward to help. Will picked up the last few cards and held them out, his face wearing a mortified expression. "I'm real sorry, Mr Smith!"

"That's okay," Heyes said with a grin, trying to put the boy at ease. "You just played a game of what some folks call, '52 Card Pick-Up', that's all."

"I hope I ain't spoiled any of 'em," said Will, frowning at the cards. "If I have, I got…" he appeared to do a quick mental calculation "…seventy-three cents saved, so I could buy you some new ones?"

"No need for that, although I thank you for the offer," Heyes answered with a nod of acknowledgement, showing he was taking Will's proposal seriously. He had all the cards in his own hands now and was going through them methodically, sorting them all face down. "Truth to tell, this deck's had worse happen to it than being dropped. A little dust off the floor isn't going to tip the balance." He had all the cards righted now: automatically he split the deck and strip shuffled it, using the empty chair next to him as an improvised card table. He shuffled the cards again, then cut the deck one-handed a few times; passed it to his left hand and repeated the process. His action wasn't as smooth as he liked it: with a momentary frown, he ran through the cut again, until it felt right. He made a few more one-handed cuts and shuffles, finishing by riffle shuffling the deck. Only then did he look up to see Will watching him with wide eyes.

"How'd you learn how to do that, Mr Smith?" The boy's tone was full of awe.

Heyes looked down at the cards in his hand. _Hardly even knew I was doing it. _ "It's not too difficult. Just takes some practice."

"Could you teach me how?"

Heyes regarded the youngster's eager face. "Well…" He thought for a moment. "I could show you how to shuffle a deck the way I just did, if you like. But like I said, it's just practicing it makes it look good."

"You reckon I could learn how to do it? I mean, if I practiced real hard?"

"Sure you could." Heyes smiled. "If I learned how to do it, so could you." He held out the cards. "Want to try?"

They had been at their impromptu tutorial for some time when footsteps sounded beside the porch, causing both man and boy to look up. Mrs Reed climbed the porch steps, coming to a halt with her gaze resting on the duo. "Will, it's nigh-on supper time. Have you been idling away here at the house while your sister's been doing the chores?"

"N…no, ma." Will had risen to his feet, shame-faced. "I was… I…"

Heyes came to his rescue. "Fact is, ma'am, I asked Will to lend me a hand with sorting through a few things… Reckon it's my fault he lost track of the time."

Mrs Reed gave a brief nod, then turned to her son. "Go on, now. Finish up your work, and give your sister a hand shutting up the chickens."

"Yes, ma." Will left the porch as though his britches were on fire, which Heyes suspected was a wise move where avoiding Mrs Reed's ire was concerned. Not having recourse to flight himself, he tried to mend fences with an apologetic smile as he cleared the cards and the rest of his gear away. He saw Mrs Reed's gaze follow the cards: a frown drew over her face. "Mr Smith. I'd be obliged if you didn't teach my boy how to gamble."

"Oh, we were only…" Heyes gauged the look on her face, and abandoned what he'd been about to say. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I showed him a few card tricks, didn't mean any harm by it. But it won't happen again." He assumed what he hoped was a suitably contrite expression.

Mrs Reed regarded him steadily. "Good. My children got little enough to get by on in this world, they don't need habits which lead to ruination."

"No, ma'am."

"Gambling's a sin, Mr Smith."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I think two young men like you and your friend Mr Jones could find more profitable ways of spending your time, than gambling in saloons."

"Oh yes, ma'am." _Before trying for this amnesty, we sure found much more profitable ways of spending our time._ Once again, Heyes reflected on the double bind of going straight. _Can't steal, and can't do honest work any one place for too long… Which leaves poker as the one thing I know I can earn enough to survive on._ "Like I said, ma'am, I'm real sorry."

"All right, then." Mrs Reed obviously considered the matter closed.

oooOOOooo

After supper with the Reed family, both Kid and Heyes took themselves out onto the porch for a while. The evening was warm and still, just a light breeze blowing across them: leaning back in his chair, Heyes shut his eyes and enjoyed the feel of it against his skin. Beside him he heard Kid stretch his legs out across the porch floor, making his chair creak, followed by a sigh. Heyes smiled, opened his eyes and looked across at his friend. "That sounded like the end of a righteous working day."

"Yeah." Kid nodded. "I sure won't need much rockin' tonight. Can't hardly keep my eyes open."

"All that keepin' busy round this place must be doing you good. Hardly knew you to be so peaceable before. Maybe tomorrow I'll come lend you a hand."

"Tired of shelling peas already?" Kid turned his head to grin at his friend. "And here was me thinking you looked pretty natural with that dishpan in your lap."

"Didn't hear no complaints from you at supper time."

"No, no; they were mighty fine peas." Kid was almost laughing now. "You may just have found your future career, Heyes."

"Just trying to pass the time."

"Yeah… Sure." Kid smothered his laughter, but a grin still twitched at the corner of his lips. "Speaking of complaints, was I imagining things or was Mrs Reed actin' kind of… frosty towards you, over supper? Seemed like she had something on her mind."

"Mhm." Heyes looked a little uncomfortable. "She was a… little put out, when she come upon me showing Will how to shuffle cards, is all."

"You were teaching him poker?" Kid sounded incredulous.

"No!" Heyes' response rang with indignant innocence. "Give me a little credit, Kid! Just, showed him how to handle the cards, split and shuffle, that kind of stuff. He saw them in my gear, just wanted to take a look."

"Uh huh."

"I mean, he's just a kid. I wouldn't… Ah, hell." Heyes sighed. "Anyway, his ma came round the corner and saw him with the cards, and that was that. So now she thinks I'm a lost soul. You too."

"Me?" Kid said, surprised. "What's it got to do with me? I wasn't showing her son how to stack a deck!"

"Neither was I. But as I recall, she said, 'Gambling's a sin… And I think two young men like you and your friend Mr Jones could find more profitable ways of spending your time, than gambling in saloons.' "

Kid let out a low, quiet whistle. "She sure is a force to be reckoned with."

"You got that right." Heyes was quiet for a short while, then: "Hhm."

Kid looked over at him. "Now what is it?"

"Just thinking…" Heyes leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Will must be about, what, twelve, thirteen years old?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Why?"

"I wasn't much older than him when I first learned how to play poker… And how to win."

Kid, surprised by his friend's uncharacteristic reminiscence, made no reply. After a pause, Heyes spoke again. "Never bothered too much about the wrongs of it, at the time. Just, it was something to do. And I figured it would come in handy."

"Well, you were right there." Kid also sat forward to lean his arms against his knees. "And as for it being wrong, there was precious little we could do at Valparaiso that we didn't get promised a ticket to hellfire for." Kid gave a wry grin. "Not that that made a lick of difference to either of us."

Heyes let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah…" He gazed out over the yard, into the gathering evening darkness. "All that effort they put in there, trying to turn us aside from 'sinful ways'… They could've saved themselves a whole lot of trouble. Not to mention, belt leather."


	12. Chapter 12

**One Good Turn - Chapter Twelve**

The following morning, Kid was roused from what had been deep and peaceful sleep by a whistling that penetrated his ears and then his dreams. He felt himself tugged up into wakefulness by the persistent tune: doggedly he kept his eyes shut, but felt the futility of even trying to recapture his former state. The cheerful whistling had an unstoppable quality that no-one except his partner seemed to be able to muster first thing in the morning. "Heyes… Do you have to do that, right here?"

The whistling paused. Then his partner's voice, as irritatingly cheerful as the whistle had been before it, responded. "Morning, Kid. Sleep well?"

"I _was_," answered Kid pointedly, still keeping his eyes shut.

"Good. Me too."

Kid grunted, but made no other effort at conversation. _Maybe if I keep quiet he'll go away. Then I can get a half hour more sleep._

"Looks like a beautiful early morning out there," Heyes enthused. "Sun's shining, clear blue sky… Shame to miss it."

"I'm not missing it. You're filling me in on all the details." Kid's tone was as discouraging as he could make it. In an effort to make a point, he drew his arm over his closed eyes, trying to block out the daylight that he sensed was filling the room now his partner had opened the window curtain.

"You know what they say, Kid: if you don't get up early, you miss the best part of the day."

"Heyes, in case you forgot – while you've been lyin' in bed the best part of a week, I've been getting up early and working every day. So the sight of dawn breaking ain't exactly as special to me as it is to you."

"The early bird catches the worm."

"Yeah? Good. Go catch one."

There was a brief silence. Kid thought hopefully that maybe he had succeeded in winning a little peace and quiet… At least long enough to fall back asleep. Then Heyes spoke again.

"Think I'll go see if there's coffee brewing. Nothing like a good cup of coffee." Pause. "You still awake, Kid?"

"Yeah." Kid spoke through the crook of his arm, eyes still shut.

"You getting up soon?"

"Looks like it."

"Okay." The creak of the door opening signalled Heyes' departure from the room. "See you in a minute." The door clunked shut.

Lying on the floor, Kid let out a sigh. Sleep was well and truly a thing of the past. He slid his arm off his face and opened his eyes, squinting at the bright daylight coming through the window. _It figures. Six days in bed, and he's the one bugging __me__ to get up._

oooOOOooo

Entering the kitchen, Heyes found the Reeds already around the table, eating breakfast. All three looked up as he entered: he smiled at them in greeting. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr Smith." Mrs Reed rose to move to the stove. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, ma'am. That'd be good."

"There's pancakes keeping warm, and plenty of molasses on the table there."

"Sounds like a mighty fine breakfast." Heyes smiled again as he took the steaming mug of coffee from Mrs Reed. "I certainly seem to have an appetite again, now I'm up and about."

"Well, help yourself to all you want. There's plenty of food for yourself and for your friend Mr Jones, when he gets to stirring up."

"Thank you, ma'am. Much appreciated." Heyes took the plate of pancakes she handed him. "We don't get to eat good home cooking too often… Makes a real nice change."

"What do you usually eat?" asked Will, eyeing the pancakes Heyes was now spooning molasses over. Heyes caught the boy's look. _That's something I remember about being a kid. You never stop feeling hungry._ "Well, Thaddeus and me, we just take it in turns cooking when we're working out in the back country."

"You can cook?" Ginny put the question this time.

Heyes glanced at her, smiling. "Enough to get by. Nothing like as good as your mother here." He let his eyes switch briefly to Mrs Reed, hoping that she'd register the compliment and mellow accordingly. "But we manage to fix a meal on our campfire. Nothing fancy… We wind up eating beans and hash pretty regular. But when you've spent the day in the saddle pretty much anything goes down okay, as long as it's hot."

"Hunger is the best sauce," commented Mrs Reed.

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes nodded. "And there's been some days when it's been just as well both me and my friend were pretty hungry, I can tell you."

"Are you and Mr Jones going to go looking for work soon, now you're starting to feel better?" asked Ginny.

"Mhm…" Heyes thought of the saloons in Lawton. "We haven't talked about it yet. But yeah, I guess we should be getting on our way in a few days." He let his gaze move to Mrs Reed. "Don't want to impose on your hospitality any more than we have done, ma'am. You've been real generous."

"No need to hurry yourselves away," said Mrs Reed, shaking her head. "It's been no trouble, having a little extra company." She got up and fetched the coffee pot from the stove, bringing it back to top up Heyes' mug.

"Thank you, ma'am." Heyes sipped his coffee appreciatively, but his thoughts were running in contrary to what Mrs Reed had said. _From what Kid told me, they're running this homestead on the raggedy edge of getting by. So having to board two strangers must be cutting into her store cupboard. And whatever Kid's been doing to lend a hand and patch this place up, that won't be putting much in the way of food back on those shelves any time soon. _

A footstep in the doorway made all four look round, to see Kid entering the kitchen. He greeted the Reeds, sitting down at the table. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr Jones." Mrs Reed poured him some coffee, and rose to fetch pancakes from the stove. Kid watched his food approach with a happy look of anticipation: once his plate was set in front of him, Heyes picked up the jug of molasses and held it out to him. Kid took the pitcher. "Thanks." He poured the dark syrup over the stack of pancakes on the plate, then began to tuck in.

Mrs Reed rose and began to clear away the dishes she and her children had already finished with. "What are you planning on working at today, Mr Jones?"

Kid swallowed a mouthful of pancake, washing it down with coffee. "Figured I'd start on fixing your fence out back; maybe haul a couple of loads of timber from the woods to split and make rails. Unless you've got something else needs doing first."

"No; that will be fine." Mrs Reed nodded. "Will and Ginny, you can see to the stock first, then the wheat needs hoeing and the tomato vines picking over for bugs."

"Yes' ma," both children chorused in unison.

"I'll come and lend you a hand," said Heyes to Kid. His friend looked at him quizzically.

"You sure you're up to it?"

"I'm fine." Heyes' affirmation came quickly. "Feelin' even better today than I was yesterday."

"Okay." Kid didn't see any point in arguing. He had to admit, Heyes did look a little brighter. _Maybe he's right. Getting outside and keeping busy might be better for him than sitting about round the house. If there's one thing he hates, it's having nothing to do. _ "I'll just finish up breakfast, then we can head on out."

OooOOOooo

The morning was still cool when Kid and Heyes collected some tools, then set off for the fence line that enclosed the area of scrub and dry grassland where the family's three cattle – a cow with her young calf, and a two year-old heifer – grazed when turned out. Like much else on the homestead, the fence was in poor repair. Heyes regarded it thoughtfully. "There's a few days' work there."

"Yeah, I know it. And we'll have to go get that timber later on, to make new rails. We can make do with what's here to start with, but I'll bet half of those posts are rotten enough to split if you breathed on 'em."

"It's a wonder it keeps their cattle in at all."

"It doesn't." Kid had started walking along the fence line; Heyes fell into step beside him. "Will was tellin' me he and Ginny have to fetch 'em back every other day. He said they can't let 'em stray too far, in case they go up into the bluffs, fall down a gully or something. They can't afford to lose any livestock."

"Yeah." Heyes looked across the dry, scrubby pasture. "They're pretty much running on the edge of possible out here."

"Guess so. But some folks don't know the meaning of the word 'quit'. And I'm betting Mrs Reed is one of those."

"Sure." Heyes nodded. "Must be all kinds of hard, for her and the children. But you can tell how much this place means to them."

"I guess it's home. And that means something to most folks. Means enough that they'll do everything they can to hold onto it, anyhow."

"Well…" Heyes gazed out at the landscape, a smile settling onto his face. "I can think of worse places to call home. Certainly pretty peaceful out here."

oooOOOooo

They worked at the fence until noon, by which time the sun was growing uncomfortably hot. Kid finished wrestling a splintered post back to upright and stepped away: it promptly listed sideways again. Kid fixed it with a hard stare, then turned to look at his partner.

Heyes was standing a few feet away: rubbing the back of one hand against his dusty and sweaty forehead, he looked weary. Kid frowned and moved away from the fence, giving the listing post a parting kick. Heyes looked up as he approached, dropping his hand and bringing a quick smile to his face. Kid jerked his head towards the fence line. "I reckon we've done about all we can, without going and getting that timber for some new posts. How about we get outta this sun and have somethin' to eat."

"Okay," replied Heyes. "Sounds good to me."

It took them only a short while to walk back to the house. They found Ginny waiting for them on the porch, sitting on the step with her arms around her knees. She quickly rose to her feet when she saw them coming, brushing down her apron. "Ma fixed you some lunch. I was going to bring it out to you if you didn't come back soon. If you want to sit out here on the porch, I can fetch it."

"That'd be great, Ginny," said Kid, with a wide smile for her. She smiled in return, her whole face lighting up. "You just sit yourselves down here – I'll go get it!" And she turned and hurried inside.

As both men climbed onto the porch and sat in the cool shade, Heyes chuckled. Kid glanced at him. "What's so funny?"

"The effect you have on ladies," answered Heyes, taking off his hat and ruffling his hair. Kid eyed him. "Heyes – she must be all of fourteen."

"Yeah. And she's smitten." Heyes was grinning broadly. "You just look at 'em with those baby blue eyes of yours and steal their hearts away."

"She's a kid. A nice kid."

"I know. I'm only fooling." Heyes subdued his grin a little. "They're both good kids."

"Getting to know them whilst I been working round the place…" Kid looked across the yard at the ramshackle barn with its leaking roof, the patched-up chicken run. "Kinda makes me wish we could spend a while longer here. Help 'em really put this place to rights."

"But you know we can't." Heyes spoke seriously now, leaning forward. "Right?" Kid sighed. "You do know that?"

"Yeah, I know it." Kid let out another long breath.

"We stay too long in one place, pretty soon someone will ask the wrong questions. Or the right ones. And then it won't just be us that winds up in trouble. Remember what nearly happened to Belle Jordan."

"I haven't forgotten." Kid nodded. "It's just… They're good folks. And we owe 'em."

"You're not the only one knows that." Heyes looked at his friend, waiting until Kid met his gaze. "And that's something I'm giving considerable thinking time to."

"You come up with anything yet?"

"No." Heyes pulled a wry face. "Other than knowing if we try to give Mrs Reed some money we'd better be ready to duck and run."

"Uh huh."

The house door creaked and both men turned to see Ginny emerging, carefully carrying a tray laden with food and a large pitcher with two mugs. Kid rose speedily to lend her a hand, provoking another smile from Heyes that he did his best to conceal. Ginny set the tray down next to them. "There's pie there, and pickles, and I made cornbread fresh this morning." She picked up the pitcher. "There's only water to drink, but I fetched it from the well just now, so it's good and cold."

"Ginny," said Kid, picking up his plateful of food and smiling at her, "that's a feast. Thank you."

Heyes picked up his own plate. He was about to start eating when he paused to look at the girl. "Now I'm forgetting my manners. Have you eaten lunch yourself yet?"

"Yes, Mr Smith." Ginny nodded. "Me and Will and ma, we already ate."

"In that case… We'll enjoy this all the better." Heyes nodded. "Thank you."

Kid spoke around a mouthful of food. "Best cornbread I ever tasted."

"I can make some more tomorrow." Ginny pinked up a little under the compliment.

"Your ma teach you to cook?" asked Kid, tucking in to the rest of his food.

"Yeah, she did. And Asa did, too."

"Asa?" queried Kid, raising an eyebrow.

"He said, no reason why a man can't cook as good as a woman, if he learns how. Says 'cos he lives all alone, he's learned how to do most things. He can sew real good, too – I seen him!"

"He's a man of many talents," said Heyes.

"Like my friend Joshua here," said Kid, grinning a little. "What he don't know about shelling peas, ain't worth writing home about." At Heyes' sideways glance, Kid's grin broadened. "Just don't drink his coffee, is all."

Ginny giggled then caught herself, reddening as she glanced at Heyes with sudden mindfulness that laughing at company might not be good manners. Heyes just gave a half shake of his head, grinning back at her. "I ought to warn you about my friend Thaddeus. He may make better coffee than me, but he's always hungry. You offer to make cornbread for him every day he's here, you're going to be kept pretty busy."

Ginny giggled again. "I'll bet he doesn't eat more 'n Will. One time ma made a pound cake, put it away in the cupboard for the next day… Will snuck out of bed whilst me and ma were asleep and ate up the whole thing. Ma says he eats like a bear fixin' to get ready for winter."

"Sounds like you and your ma have got your work cut out," said Heyes. "But I reckon you're both up to the job, if this lunch you've fixed for us is anything to go by."

"Do you want any more?" asked Ginny, standing up. Both men declined with a shake of the head, whilst working their way through the remaining food on their plates. Ginny glanced across the yard. "I ought to go back and help Will with hoein' the wheat."

"You head along. We'll wash up when we're done," said Kid. With a nod, the girl descended the porch steps and headed across into the sunny yard, picking up her hoe from where it leant on a fence as she went.

oooOOOooo

Lunch done with, the two partners hitched up the farm's mare to a cart and drove to the woodland a little over a mile away, to cut and haul timber to make new posts and rails for the fence they were repairing. Although it was a little cooler in amongst the shade of the trees, the work of felling soon had both men sweating in the summer heat. Determined to try to get all the timber they needed in one trip, they worked through the afternoon and into the early evening, only quitting when lengthening shadows signalled the approach of supper time.

Climbing up onto the cart, Kid took the reins whilst Heyes sat next to him: clicked his tongue and urged the mare to start walking back to the farm. As the cart began bumping over the dry soil, Kid saw his partner holding his left hand with his right, rubbing his thumb across the palm. "What's up?"

"Hm?" Heyes glanced up. "Ah, nothin'. Got a blister comin'."

"We did put in a pretty long day." Kid looked at the sun, starting to move lower in the sky. "Figure we've cut enough timber to get that fence line done?"

"Yeah. Probably." Heyes sounded tired.

Kid glanced at him. "You feelin' okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Maybe we should've quit earlier…"

"Kid, I'm okay. Just a little tuckered out, is all." To prove his point, Heyes let out a broad yawn. "Had an early start, been working all day. Once I get some supper I'll perk up."

oooOOOooo

The sun was just dipping behind the barn when the two drove into the yard. Heyes unharnessed the mare; Kid saw to her feed and water, giving her a brief curry combing whilst his friend stowed the horse's gear. Then they both headed to the house.

The smell of food showed that supper was ready, and the two men washed away the grime and dust of their day's work as quickly as possible before joining the Reeds for the evening meal. It was evident from the quietness of the children that they too had been working hard out in the fields, alongside their mother. Supper passed quickly: at its end, Mrs Reed rose to clear away the dishes with Ginny. "Open the door and let a little air in, Will," she said. "It's got mighty close in here, with all that heat today." She nodded at Kid and Heyes. "Mr Jones, Mr Smith: it'll be cooler out on the porch."

"Yes, ma'am," said Heyes. "But won't you come out and join us?"

"I'll just see to these dishes first," she said. "Unwashed dishes give me the fidgets. You go on out… And Will and Ginny, you can set out there a spell too."

Out in the cooler air of the summer evening, Kid and Heyes took a chair each and watched as the two children settled themselves out on the porch, either side of a lantern that Ginny took down from a nail and carefully lit. Ginny went back indoors, returning shortly after with a heap of mending that she began to sort through; whilst Will made his way to the barn, reappearing with a threshing flail with a broken rawhide thong. He sat on the porch top step and set about trying to repair it, cutting the old leather away and beginning to fashion a new thong from a piece of rawhide.

After a short while Mrs Reed came out of the house with a kerosene lamp and took a seat on another chair, settling down with her own sewing basket and a lapful of what looked to be clothes for her children in the making. She had only been at work for a few minutes when Will spoke from where he sat on the top step. "Ma – me and Ginny hoed more'n half the wheat today."

"That's good, son. You know how quick the weeds get a-hold this time of year, if we don't fix to stop them."

"Only we was wonderin'…" A cautious note was entering Will's tone. "With it being after midsummer now… Me and Ginny, we figured, maybe… it might be berry picking time?" Across from her brother, Ginny raised her head to steal a quick look at her mother, a move that didn't go unnoticed by Kid and Heyes.

Mrs Reed turned over the shirt she was working on, smoothing it across her lap before picking up her needle and thread. "Could be at that." Her voice was non-committal.

Encouraged by a lack of outright denial but still cautious, Will tried laying out his plans a little further. "Wouldn't take but a day to walk down the stream and back… If we leave it too late, the birds might eat 'em all up 'fore we get to picking them."

"Mm-hm." His mother appeared to be focussing her attention on the seam she was sewing. Will watched her for a moment, pressing his lips together with barely-suppressed impatience. He shot a sidelong glance at his sister, who was also keeping a cautious eye on their mother. Will apparently decided to throw caution to the winds. "So – can we go, ma? Can we go berry picking tomorrow?"

"If Mr Jones and Mr Smith came too, then we could bring back twice as much as we usually do with them to help us pick and carry," added Ginny, going for broke.

"Mr Jones and Mr Smith may not want to go traipsing halfway across this country for the sake of a few wild raspberries," commented Mrs Reed, looking up at her two guests.

Kid and Heyes exchanged glances. The thought of another long hot day spent wrestling with fenceposts in the open pasture loomed up in their minds: as one, they smiled. Heyes spoke up for both of them. "Well, ma'am, I daresay we can spare a day to lend Will and Ginny here a hand. If you're agreeable, that is."

"It's a long walk there and back. Ginny, you'll need to fix some food to take with you." Mrs Reed snipped through a thread. "But as long as you aim to be back before sundown, you may go." She looked at her suddenly elated children, then at Kid and Heyes. "It's as well you're going. This boy of mine eats two out of every three berries he picks: it takes him so long to fill a pail you're like to die of old age before he's done."

Looking mortified but still smiling, Will bent his head back to his work, seeking to show by his industriousness that his mother's words were calumny. Beside him Ginny also looked happy at the thought of a day's escape from farm chores.

The evening brought a sweet coolness that was soothing after the long summer day. After a while sitting in companionable silence with the family, Kid felt his eyelids growing heavy. He raised a hand to rub them, then glanced over at Heyes. His partner was sitting with his legs stretched far out in front of him, crossed loosely at the ankles: his hands lay in his lap, and his chin rested almost on his chest, eyes closed in sleep. Kid smiled. Flexing his shoulders a little, loosening the stiffness he could feel starting to settle there after the day's work, he got to his feet. "Think I'll turn in. Been a long day." As he spoke he stepped closer to Heyes and gave his sleeping friend a nudge: Heyes' head bobbed up, his eyes blinking open in the lamplight.

Mrs Reed looked up from her sewing. "It's getting late, sure enough. Will and Ginny, you get along to bed now." She glanced at the lamp by her elbow, assessing how much kerosene was left in the reservoir. "I'll just finish this seam then I'll be coming in too, so mind you wash up and settle yourselves down straight away." The two children got up and headed for bed, bidding their mother and the two men goodnight as they did so.

Once in the small bedroom they were sharing, both Heyes and Kid undressed and made straight for bed. As Kid settled back under his blanket Heyes doused the light. A few seconds later, Kid heard his partner speak. "Wonder what time she'll be sitting up till, working on those clothes."

"As long as she's got light to see by, I'm guessin'."

"And I'll bet she'll be awake and doin' before sun-up."

Kid yawned. "Yeah… Figure she will." There was a long pause, then he heard his friend sigh, turning over restively in bed. Kid grimaced into the darkness. _Hell. Don't go worrying about the big stuff now, Heyes. Just go to sleep. _He shifted himself on his pallet bed on the floor, settling the makeshift mattress beneath him into something more comfortable. Drowsiness was stealing back over him, taking him down pleasurably into a peaceful place. Just before he dropped off the edge, a faint snoring reached his ears. Kid smiled and slid into sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_A brief introduction to say thanks to all for reading so far – and thanks for all your reviews! Makes all the difference, to know that folks are enjoying reading._

_Should've said earlier on in the fic: HH and KC characters not mine, just borrowed them to play with. Thanks to the original series writers. (Other characters out of my own head, so all the mistakes therein are mine.) _

oooOOOooo

**One Good Turn - Chapter Thirteen**

A knocking roused Kid from heavy dreams. He opened his eyes and stared up at the rough planking ceiling, dim in early morning light. Then the sound of knocking came again, making him half sit up and look at the door. "Yeah?" His voice sounded muzzy: he rubbed a hand over his face in an effort to wake up.

"Mr Jones?" Will's voice came through the door, a cautious compromise between politely quiet and eagerly loud. "Are you awake yet?"

"Yeah… Sure." Kid rubbed his hand through his hair this time, hearing a rustle as Heyes stirred in the bed beside him.

"Ma's fixed breakfast, and me and Ginny're ready to set out, afterward."

"Okay. We'll be right there." Kid pushed back the covers, and got up. Getting to his feet he saw that Heyes had also opened his eyes, and was peering at the window. "Rise and shine, partner. Looks like we're having an early start."

"Umhh…" Heyes levered himself upright, blinking. "I was just dreaming I was back in Devil's Hole. Thought I still was for a second, when I woke up."

"Sounds more like a nightmare," remarked Kid, buttoning up his shirt.

"Yeah." Heyes sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. "Half expected that knocking on the door to be one of the boys, coming to tell me something." He yawned. "Boy, that's something I don't miss, riding herd on that bunch."

"Never understood how you stuck with it so long," commented Kid. "If it'd been me heading up that gang, Wheat and some of them others would've felt my boot up their sorry asses a dozen times."

"Well, that could've gotten interesting," replied Heyes, standing up to pull on his trousers. "But how long you figure they'd have stuck around, if I'd pitched a fit every time one of them asked for it?"

"I know. Not quarrelling with your methods. Just, wouldn't be my style. Which is why you had the privilege of being leader."

"Some privilege," snorted Heyes. "Anyways… You led that pack of no-counts just as much as I did. You know as well I do: there were plenty of times they'd have listened to what I said then done the exact opposite, if you hadn't been standing there backing me up."

"Uh huh." Kid pursed his lips. "Me? Or my gun hand?"

"Both." Heyes gave him a conciliatory smile.

Kid smiled back. "Anyways… If you were dreaming, you must've had a good night's sleep."

"Feels like it was a little on the short side…" Heyes pulled the curtain back from the window and looked out. "Sun's up, but only just. I'll bet those kids were awake before dawn. They act like going berry picking's a Christmas treat."

"Maybe it is, for them." Kid shrugged. "Anyway, if you start to feeling sorry for yourself about sleeping arrangements, just remember I'm the one sleeping on the floor." He paused, then his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Although… being as how you're feeling better… maybe it's time to revisit that deal." Heyes stood up, frowning: Kid jerked his thumb at his own pallet bed on the floor. "It really ain't so bad, bunking down there, partner."

"Yeah? Then how come you want to swap places?" 

"Hey, only seems fair you take your turn. 'Less still you're still feeling sick, in which case maybe you need another dose of Mrs Reed's herbal tea."

"No thanks." Heyes pulled a face. "Look, you want to take turns at the bed, fine by me. We can toss a coin for it."

"Why, no thank you, Heyes." Kid shook his head firmly. "I reckon if we just take it turn and turn about, one night each, that'll do fine. Startin' with my turn tonight."

"You drive a hard bargain." Heyes cast a slightly regretful look at the bed, as they headed out of the room for breakfast.

After hot coffee and biscuits went some way to alleviating the earliness of the hour, the two men were ready to set out. Ginny and Will were waiting for them outside, sitting on the porch steps with a selection of empty pails and baskets. The basket Ginny was holding onto already held something wrapped in cloth: seeing Kid's glance at it, she spoke up. "I fixed us some lunch. Ma let me put in the rest of the pie from yesterday, and I got up early and made fresh cornbread too."

"Sounds mighty fine, Ginny," said Kid, smiling back at her. "You must have got up by candlelight, sounds like."

As they descended the porch steps, Heyes murmured to Kid out of the corner of his mouth, "What'd I say? Like a Christmas treat." They watched as the two children walked briskly ahead of them, their steps light as they exchanged excited morning chatter. Heyes continued _sotto voce_, "I feel kinda like a Sunday school superintendent on a church picnic."

"How about we just relax and enjoy it," Kid replied in an equally low undertone. "Sun's shining, all we got to do is walk a while, and we got a day off from mending fence… Reckon we can handle looking after a couple of kids for a few hours."

"I never said it was a problem," answered Heyes. A smile had come onto his face. "Sunday school picnic's looking pretty good to me."

The children led the way across the farmstead's land, through the crops they'd been working amongst the day before and out towards where a line of trees marked where the river ran in a deep valley. The two outlaws followed at an easy pace, taking in the sights of the surrounding countryside where they hadn't yet wandered. As they drew closer to where the ground began to dip away down towards the trees, Heyes noticed that Ginny had picked a few flowers as she'd walked along, which now lay on top of the cloth-wrapped food in her basket. He smiled at them, and said to her, "You reckon those'll last till you get them back to your ma?"

She looked up at him and he was a little surprised by the seriousness in her eyes. "They're not for ma." She turned to gaze ahead, lifting one hand to point where Will was already yards ahead, drawing close to a rise that bore a single oak tree. "They're for pa."

Heyes saw now the simple wooden marker that topped the rise, almost hidden by the shade under the tree's spreading branches. He felt for once at a loss for what to say. As Ginny walked to join her brother, Heyes looked across to Kid, who was watching the two children. After a moment Kid's gaze shifted to his partner: they said nothing, but after a pause continued to walk towards the grave marker under the tree.

When they drew close, Ginny was arranging the flowers in a small posy at the wooden marker's foot, whilst Will cleared away fallen twigs from the grave. The two children went about their tasks with sober concentration; when they were finished they stood for a moment together beside the grave, their eyes shut. Kid and Heyes waited to one side, removing their hats to observe the siblings' silent prayer.

When the brother and sister opened their eyes, both gave a last look at the marker before picking up their baskets and pails and turning back to continue their journey. As they started underway, Kid fell into step beside Ginny, whilst Heyes drew ahead with Will. Kid let a minute or so of silence pass, then said, "Peaceful spot, back there."

"It was pa's thinking tree." Ginny spoke quietly, swinging her basket a little. "He used to say, sometimes he had something to think about that was too big to fit in the house; then he'd take a walk down and sit under that tree, and he could figure it out. Said it was the most helpful tree that way he'd ever known."

Kid smiled, a little sadly. He could imagine that looking after a family on this piece of marginal land had probably given Mr Reed a lot of thoughts that were too big to work through easily. "That's a pretty good idea your pa had. I could do with a tree like that, my own self."

"You could use pa's. He won't mind." Ginny shrugged. "Me and Will come out here sometimes, when we're figuring on things. Ma too."

"Thank you, Ginny. If I need to, I may just take you up on that."

OooOOOooo

As their journey continued, the sun rose higher in the sky and the day's heat began to build. At the head of the trail Will set a fast pace, although occasionally diverted by sidetracks to check on such fascinating things as a calling towhee, or a set of animal tracks in the dust just demanding to be identified. He kept up a pretty steady stream of conversation that Heyes did his best to field, maintaining a good-humoured exchange that left him feeling not uncomfortably settled in his Sunday school superintendent role. He got the impression that Will sometimes felt a little outnumbered by females, despite Asa Lee's occasional visits, and was making the most of the two men's temporary presence.

And Will's choice of topics was random enough that it held Heyes' attention, in the way that bright youngsters sometimes could. As Will fired questions about cattle ranching, card playing (which Heyes undertook to answer on the strict understanding that said card playing was a bad habit and in no way something that Will should consider taking up), wild bird calls and the best way to catch a raccoon, Heyes found himself wondering what the future held for the boy and the rest of his family. There was a quick curiosity about the youngster that reminded Heyes not a little of himself at a similar age… And a further parallel was the fact that like the boy's, Heyes' thirst for knowledge had been nurtured by a father who'd then been lost.

Without going too far down that particular dark memory lane – it was a nice sunny day, which Heyes didn't feel like letting those recollections spoil if he could help it – he felt drawn to think about what options might be open to the Reed children. _Stay here on the farmstead – and spend the rest of their days working from sun-up till dark, most likely. Maybe get a little book learning with their ma, and pick up whatever Asa can teach 'em._ He frowned a little. He had no illusions that life was an easy ride for anyone, still less for a homesteading family, but the stacked odds against the Reeds bothered him more than he cared to admit.

"You okay, Mr Smith?" Will had paused a few yards ahead on the path they were following, looking back at him. Heyes wiped the frown away, replacing it with a more cheerful expression. "Sure. Just got to thinking about something. Bad habit of mine."

"It ain't but a mile or so further," said Will, pointing to where the path wound down the hillside they were following, running parallel to the course of the stream below. "Unless you want we should rest a spell?"

"No, that's okay." Heyes shook his head, giving the boy a grin. "Reckon I can keep up." Will grinned back, then set off at his customary hectic pace. With a glance behind to check that his partner was still bringing up the rear with Ginny, Heyes followed after the boy. If truth were told, the growing heat of the day now that the sun was climbing towards its noon height was starting to make itself felt. After only two days of being up and active, a walk that before his illness he would have managed without difficulty was beginning to tire him somewhat. But he privately decided that this was something he would do his damnedest to keep anyone else from noticing: he was tired of being treated like an invalid. Taking a long breath, he picked up his pace. _Only a mile or two to go. No problem._

oooOOOooo

As it turned out, Will's estimate of _but a mile a or two_ was nearer three, and by the time the quartet descended the side of the steep valley to the river, both Heyes and Kid were ready to get out of the sun for a while. Will and Ginny ran headlong down the precipitous stony path that led down the river, familiarity and youthful heedlessness of the possible perils of falling lending them wings. Bringing up the rear, the two outlaws followed at a more careful pace, grabbing onto saplings when the gradient and loose gravely surface of the path sent them almost spilling to finish the journey in a more undignified manner.

When they finally gained the bottom of the slope the scrub thinned out at the river's edge, where Will and Ginny now stood ankle-deep in the water. Baskets and pails lay beside discarded shoes on the bank, as the two children kicked and splashed water at each other, shrieking and laughing. Kid and Heyes stood watching them, grins on both their faces. After a minute or so, Ginny glanced around at the men on the bank. She and Will exchanged looks – then both children suddenly turned and directed their efforts at the men, throwing splashes of water vigorously in their direction.

"Hey!" yelled Kid, as water rained over them. He and Heyes swapped a look – then as one, the two men launched themselves into the shallows and began retaliating with mighty splashes of their own. For long minutes the air was filled with flying water and shouting, neither side gaining an outright advantage in the battle of the river though all parties scored considerable collateral damage. Then Will stepped into a hole in the river bottom and went over backwards with a splash that halted proceedings as he disappeared beneath the surface. Pulled quickly to his feet with a hand from his sister and Heyes, no harm was done but by mutual agreement the water war was proclaimed a draw.

Sitting on the bank in the sun emptying water out of his boots, Heyes watched as Ginny unpacked the lunch she'd brought from her basket. Beside him Kid wrung his socks with both hands, then spread them onto a nearby sun-warmed rock to dry.

"Will! Quit playing around. You'll only fall in again," admonished Ginny, looking over to where her brother still waded in the water's edge. He turned around and reluctantly picked his way out, scrambling up the bank to where his sister had laid out the food. Ginny frowned at him. "Don't drip all over the lunch."

"Sorry." Will took his share and sat crosslegged on a nearby rock, his hair sticking up in wet spikes. Heyes and Kid also received their food from Ginny, and for a short while the only sound was one of communal dining.

oooOOOooo

Lunch over, Kid watched as Ginny tidied away the few scraps of leftovers, wrapping them carefully up in the cloth to take not home. _Waste not want not,_ thought Kid. He glanced over to where his partner was now laying on his back in the sun, head resting on folded arms and eyes peacefully shut. "You fixing to take a nap?"

"Just resting my eyes." Heyes sounded completely unmoved by Kid's comment.

"Don't forget, we came out here to do a job of work."

"I haven't forgotten."

Kid looked at Ginny, then at Will who was sprawled belly down on his sunny rock, soaking up warmth like a lizard. "Looks my friend and your brother both got the same idea. Figure we need to hustle 'em up?"

Ginny regarded Will with a managing expression that made her resemble her mother. "Don't worry. I can make him work."

"Now that's a useful talent. Reckon you can share some tips with me, so I can try 'em out on Joshua here?"

"Being as how I'm not asleep, I can hear every word you say," Heyes commented, eyes still closed. Kid leaned back and snagged his socks, already nearly dry from the hot sun. "Then hear this: it ain't siesta time. Time to get to work."

The children led the way along the river bank a little further, to where the narrow valley widened out slightly, forming a broader space of level ground where seasonal floods had accumulated a layer of rich silty soil. Growing up through this was a rich tangle of scrub, including the tall canes of the wild raspberries that were the expedition's aim. Will's predictions from the night before had been correct: many of the canes were fruiting, bearing ripe dark red berries that slipped easily off their stems to lie warm in the hand. Soon all four were picking industriously, slowly filling the baskets and pails that they had brought.

Moving in and out of shade and sun amongst the scrub, Kid soon felt his river-splashed shirt and trousers become dry. It was still amongst the undergrowth: the occasional bird startled and flew away, and insects hummed in sunny patches, but apart from that the only sound was the rustle of the four gatherers moving through the thicket, and the chatter of Will and Ginny at work.

A snap of dry twig made him look around: Heyes emerged from a dense stand of bushes, shouldering his way through. Kid nodded at his partner. "How you doing?"

For an answer, Heyes tilted his pail, showing it half full of dusky red fruit. "Plenty here. Though I could wish for a few less thorns roundabout."

"Thorns I'm okay with. It's bears I'd rather not run into."

"The kids are making enough noise to drive off a bear at thirty paces." Heyes squinted up at the sun. "How much longer have we got before we need to start heading back, do you reckon?"

"Must've taken the best part of a couple of hours to walk here. But we got plenty of daylight. You in any hurry?"

"Nope." Heyes hitched up his pail, giving a smile. "Nice quiet afternoon, work that ain't too hard on the back… Far as I'm concerned, we can take as long as we like."

oooOOOooo

As the afternoon wore on, the berry pickers found their loads growing heavier. Late afternoon drew them together in an open clearing right by the river's edge, where Ginny inspected the harvest and pronounced it sufficient. Although her brother's pail was by no means full, which she pointed out with a critical eye. "You're all over raspberry juice," she observed sternly. "How many of 'em did you eat?"

"Just a few," answered Will evasively, although the colour of his tongue suggested otherwise. "Anyways, I picked enough for ma to make plenty of jam."

"Well, you'd best carry 'em back careful, or they'll be jam long before we get 'em home." She exchanged a long-suffering big-sisterly look with Heyes and Kid. "We ought to start heading back."

The trek back to the farmstead seemed to take longer than the walk out, as the afternoon edged towards evening. Ginny set a brisk pace, mindful of the sun creeping slowly downwards and her promise to her mother to be back before sunset. Will lagged a little and had occasionally to be chivvied along by his big sister; every now and then when her attention turned elsewhere he took advantage of her distraction to surreptitiously pick a berry from his pail to eat, simultaneously lightening his load and staving off hunger pangs at the same time.

Kid and Heyes drifted a little back behind the children, falling into step alongside each other in companionable silence for a while. They'd been walking for some time when Kid noticed his friend slowing down a little. Trying not to be obvious, he gave him a sidelong glance. Heyes' head was downturned a little, a slight frown pulling his brows together: as Kid looked, a small shiver ran through him.

"You okay?"

Heyes looked up quickly. "Yeah. Sure." Then he shivered again. "Just feeling a little chill."

Kid regarded him with concern. Although the sun was dropping towards the horizon, the air still felt warm to him. "Maybe you shouldn't have walked all this distance."

"Don't start." Heyes sounded irritable. "I can keep up with a couple of kids." Another shiver shook him, but he set his jaw stubbornly. Kid let out a long, patient breath. "Right." He let a silence stretch for a few minutes before he spoke again. "It's only about another mile, anyways."

"Mh-hmm." Heyes' response was neutral in tone. Sensing the fruitlessness of further enquiry, Kid let him be, choosing to keep an eye on his friend in silence.

oooOOOooo

The sun was just touching the horizon when the four walked into the yard by the house. Ginny and Will ran up the steps and disappeared inside, followed more slowly by Kid and Heyes. They followed the children into the kitchen, where Mrs Reed was being shown the spoils of the day. Will was exclaiming eagerly, "And I picked nearly as much as Ginny, and Mr Smith and Mr Jones did too, so there's more raspberries than we ever brung back before!"

"So I see," responded his mother, nodding at the sight of the laden pails and baskets. "I can see I'll be fixing jam most of tomorrow, with all of that fruit."

"There would've been even more if Will hadn't eaten enough for a flock of bluebirds," commented Ginny. Her brother shot her a dirty look, and Mrs Reed gave her daughter a slight shake of the head. "Nobody loves a tattletale. Now help your brother clear these berries into the pantry while I finish fixing supper." She turned to Kid and Heyes. "I'm sure the both of you are ready for some food and a little peace and quiet, after my pair of wild things have been dragging you up hill and down dale all day."

"Sounds good, ma'am," said Kid.

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes' more subdued rejoinder didn't go unremarked by Mrs Reed; she eyed him closely. "You look like you're ready to drop, Mr Smith."

"No, ma'am: I'm fine." Heyes smiled, but his bluff was called by the shiver that ran through him an instant later. Mrs Reed regarded him sternly. "That's the chills and fever saying how-dee-do again. You get yourself sat down to rest, while I make some fever tea." Turning away to set about this, she missed the expression of dismay that graced Heyes' features, and the equally frank grin that appeared on those of his friend.

Supper, herbal tea and an evening dose of quinine later, Heyes escaped Mrs Reed's ministrations by going early to bed. The Reeds also retired early, the children tired out by the day's adventures and Mrs Reed having run out of lamp oil. When Kid made his way quietly into the bedroom by candle lantern, he found his friend in bed but still awake. Shutting the door, he set down the lantern and began to undress. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'd rather not be doin' this again." Heyes shivered, then let out a breath of frustration. "Had about enough of this marsh fever…"

"It'll pass. Asa said you might get spells like this, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"You'll just have to take things slow till it eases off. You rest up tomorrow, likely you'll be feelin' okay again pretty quick."

"And if I don't?"

"Cross that bridge if we come to it." Kid paused, standing next to the bed. "No point in workin' up a sweat about it, partner."

"Doin' that just fine right now," grumbled Heyes, shifting under the covers.

Kid picked up the candle lantern and blew it out, turned to move towards his own bed on the floor – then stopped. "Huh."

"What?" Heyes' voice came through the darkness.

"Heyes, you sure you didn't plan this latest fit of chills and fever? Because I just remembered: tonight it was gonna be your turn to sleep on the floor, and me in a real bed."

"Tell you what." Heyes shivered hard, then continued: "Next time you can get marsh fever, and I'll sleep on the floor. Hell, I'll sleep on the roof."


	14. Chapter 14

**One Good Turn - Chapter Fourteen**

When Kid got up the next morning, he found Heyes past the worst of the chills and fever but groggy from a poor night's rest. When his partner sat up and swung his legs out of bed, Kid shook his head. "Uh-uh. Where do you think you're heading?"

"To get my clothes, if you get out of the way."

"Nope." Kid folded his arms. "Only thing you're doing today is resting up. Thought we settled that, last night."

Heyes looked at his friend mulishly. "You think I'm staying stuck in this bed another day, you got another think coming."

"Don't have to stay in bed. But you ain't coming out mending fence with me."

"Kid, I'm okay. Just 'cos I had a little spell last night, that's nothing that some breakfast and a little fresh air won't put right…" Heyes was getting to his feet as he spoke, but the movement obviously produced a giddy effect: he blinked and put out a hand as if to steady himself but the bedpost was a good foot further away than he thought it was. Kid caught him by the elbow as he swayed, supporting him until he recovered his balance. Kid gave his friend a second to recover, then said, "Want to try that again?"

"Hell…" Heyes stayed standing up, although the lack of colour in his face suggested that this wasn't helping much. After a second, he lifted his arm free from his partner's steadying grip. "Just stood up too quick, that's all."

"Yeah. Sure." Kid stepped away from him, moving to the bedroom door. "But you're still not coming out mending fence today."

Cautiously reaching for his shirt, Heyes frowned. "Then what am I going to do? Another day sitting around on my rear end is going drive me crazy."

Kid shrugged, smiling not unsympathetically at his impatient friend. "That's up to you, partner. Just take it easy, is all." He opened the door to head off to breakfast, then paused, his smile broadening into a grin. "Though I do recall Mrs Reed saying she was planning to make them raspberries into jam today. Maybe you could ask her for some lessons in how to fix preserves."

The baleful look Heyes levelled at his friend sent Kid on his way without further comment.

-oooOOOooo-

As it turned out, having to spend an enforced day of rest about the house and farmyard wasn't as much of a hardship as Heyes had expected it to be. Dividing his time between doing lightweight chores for Mrs Reed – after having faced her assessing eye and the inevitable cup of fever tea – and catching an afternoon siesta in the porch shade, by evening Heyes was feeling distinctly better. Sitting at the supper table with the others, he tucked into his food with something like a return of his normal appetite, a sight that Mrs Reed seemed to regard with approval.

"Would you like a few more pancakes, Mr Smith?"

"Yes thank you, ma'am – I sure would." Heyes lifted his plate for Mrs Reed to slide another two golden-brown fluffy pancakes onto it, set it back down onto the table and spooned some of her freshly-made raspberry jam on top before tucking in. Kid regarded his friend with an amused look. "Well, I'm the one who's been working up an appetite… But seems like taking things easy agrees with you, judging by how many of them you've gotten through."

"Thaddeus, the way these taste it'd be an insult to Mrs Reed's fine cooking not to have a second helping." Heyes continued working his way through his plateful, unabashed.

"Can't argue with that." Kid smiled at Mrs Reed. "You sure set a real good table, ma'am. When we ride on out of here we're gonna miss all this fine cooking."

"You're not going soon, are you?" asked Ginny. Her mother shot her a look and Ginny coloured, remembering that children should be seen and not heard at the table. Kid and Heyes exchanged glances, then Heyes answered quietly for both of them. "Well, we'll have to be thinking about moving on in the next week, I guess. You've been real good to us, taking us in when I got sick, and we both appreciate the hospitality you've shown us - more than we can say. But we can't stay here too long. Got to get on our way, go find some work."

"You could work some more here," said Will. "The barn roof needs fixing and ma won't let me do it – but you could do it and I could help!"

"Will." Mrs Reed spoke quickly. "Hush now. Don't you pester our guests."

Heyes and Kid met each other's gaze again. This time Kid spoke. "It's all right, ma'am. Like my friend Joshua says, we do need to get on our way soon. But we're both obliged to you for all you've done, and it'd be a poor return if we didn't finish off a few of those things that could do with being seen to about the place. Seems like a fair exchange for all you've done for us."

"You're not beholden to me or mine." Mrs Reed gave him and his friend a steady look. "But I do I appreciate the work you've done here for us." She rose and began to clear dishes from the table. "Ginny, you wash up. Will, you help wipe. When you're done you can be putting labels on those jars of jam: they'll be cooled off now."

"Hope you've got plenty of store room for all those," said Heyes with a smile. "You must have put up three dozen jars today."

"I'm keeping a few jars, and some to go to Asa," replied Mrs Reed. "But the rest I plan on taking in to Lawton tomorrow, with some other things I'm fixing to trade. Sometimes we've got more than we can use or keep, at this time of year… But Frank Wilder always gives me a fair price at his store for whatever I can spare, and there's a few supplies I need to stock up on."

Over at the sink Will whispered to his sister, who whispered back, both shooting furtive looks at their mother. Mrs Reed shook her head. "Now you know that's not mannerly. What are you two conspiring on?"

"Nothing, ma." Ginny made a face at her brother. Will wasn't sufficiently deterred, and came out with, "Ma, can we come?"

"No, son. You and your sister have got chores to do. And I'll be busy in town: I won't want you underfoot while I'm trying to get things done. The last time you came in to Lawton you near worried me to death, with your non-stop questions about everything and everyone."

Heyes glanced at Kid, then spoke up. "Ma'am… Hope you don't mind me asking, but would it be all right if I was to come into Lawton with you? Figure I could ask around, see if there's any work likely to be coming up that Thaddeus and me could put ourselves in the way of. That way we'd have something to move on to, in a few days' time."

"Plus, we said we'd get Asa some quinine, to replace what he's given Joshua," said Kid. "Maybe the doctor in town would have some to spare… Or he'd be able to get hold of some."

"That would be fine," said Mrs Reed. "I'll be starting early, Mr Smith. If you don't mind lending me a hand to load the wagon, we can set off right after breakfast. Then we should be in Lawton just after noon."

"Sounds good to me," answered Heyes.

-oooOOOooo-

Rising early the next morning, both men made their way to the kitchen to find Mrs Reed already at work, packing baskets and boxes with the food and produce she hoped to trade in town. Once they'd eaten breakfast, the two men rose to set about their respective jobs, Kid departing outside to continue repairing the pasture fence while Ginny and Will saw to their chores.

Heyes joined Mrs Reed in loading the wagon, passing up baskets of eggs and boxes of jars of preserves to her so that she could arrange them carefully on the wagon's back. Heyes cast an impressed eye over what was going to town with them: he recognised the labour of many hours being stacked up on the dusty wood of the cart. There were fresh vegetables, picked from the Reeds' land first thing that morning by Ginny and Will; a couple of small bundles of furs; and a big box filled with small dark glass bottles and packages of what looked like dried plants tied together and wrapped in paper. Heyes eyed these last items curiously.

Once the loading up was done, he climbed onto the seat next to Mrs Reed, who briskly urged the mare into motion. Gesturing with one thumb at the back of the cart, Heyes commented, "Looks like you've got a pretty fair heap of stuff to trade, there. Your man Wilder, you reckon he'll sure enough take it all off your hands?"

"Always has done," answered Mrs Reed. "I've been trading with him nigh on ten years now. He knows I always bring him decent goods. And I've got a notion of what folks in town will buy. As far as I know, whatever I bring in to Frank Wilder doesn't sit in his goods store overlong."

"I was wondering what the little bottles and the dried-up looking plants were," asked Heyes. Mrs Reed smiled a little. "Not much you miss, is there, Mr Smith?"

Heyes smiled in return. "Well, ma'am, some time ago I kinda got in the habit of noticing things… And as it's a habit that generally serves me well, I've kept it up."

"It ever get you into trouble?"

"Oh, more than once," replied Heyes cheerfully. "But that just makes life interesting."

"Hmm." Mrs Reed didn't sound approving, but the small smile was still there. "Well, I started fixing up tonics and suchlike for my family from plants and herbs, way back from when my children were babies. My mama taught me, and her mama before her. They worked for me and my brothers and sisters, and for my family, and I thought they might just as well work for other folks too. So I carried on making them. Asa shared some of his notions with me, too. And a few years back I asked Frank Wilder if he liked to try and see if anyone would buy them… And seems like they did. So now I make up some tinctures, dry herbs and put them into bundles, and hopefully some folks are the better off for using them."

Heyes thought of the fever tea. "That's pretty enterprising."

"Just because I live out in the back country, doesn't mean I've not got a head for doing business, Mr Smith." Mrs Reed spoke in an assertive tone. "I've got children to raise. I can assure you, I am more than capable of making my way in the world."

"Yes, ma'am. I surely see that." Heyes tried to show by his tone that his previous comment had been one of appreciation rather than surprise. "So… Do you head into Lawton often, to trade?"

"About once a month, this time of year. Less in the winter. The road nearer town is good, but you can see out here it's but a track. It can get awful boggy at some of the stream crossings, if we've had much in the way of rain."

"You're pretty remote from folks. That must be tough if you get bad weather."

"There's a few of us scattered over the hills. Asa stops by regular: and the Ambrose place is about ten miles east."

"But it's not like living near town, with people on hand if you need it."

"No, it isn't. But it suits us." Mrs Reed gave a little shake of her head. "And truth to tell, Mr Smith, I've lived in places where folks were close together, and it didn't seem to make for neighbourliness. I've had more kindnesses from people living out here in the wilds, than I ever did elsewhere. Sometimes, it seems to me, living too close together brings out the worst in folks."

"I believe you." Heyes gave a wry smile. "There are times when I feel like getting a little space between me and the next feller." _Especially when he's wearing a tin star._

"Well, I'm sure that you and your friend Mr Jones get to spend time out in the back country. You did say that you worked cattle sometimes, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is that what kind of work you're planning to try to find in Lawton? Because I don't know if any of the ranches round here are likely to need to take anyone on, this time of year. It's not like the spring or autumn, when they need extra hands for round up."

"Hadn't really decided on whether we'd look for any particular type of work," said Heyes. "Me and my friend can pretty much turn our hand to most things. We've done some tracking and guiding, a little prospecting… I guess we'll just have to see what turns up." _Hopefully a nice easy-going saloon with a few tables full of poker players who aren't real bright when it comes to figuring odds._

"And if you can't find anything in Lawton?"

"Then we'll head out and try our luck a little further on." Heyes shrugged. "Something usually comes along, if we keep looking."

Mrs Reed was quiet for a while, studying the track ahead as she drove the horse. After some time, she asked, "It's not my habit to pry into other people's business… But I admit, you two boys strike me as an oddity. You're both young and strong enough you could make a decent life for yourselves. And I've watched the way you act around my children: you've got the makings of manners, and good enough natured the pair of you. Yet here you both are, drifting from one place to the next, making shift with whatever comes your way. It doesn't seem like much of a life."

Heyes winced inwardly at Mrs Reed's directness. As if she'd sensed his discomfort, she spoke again, quickly. "Mr Smith, I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn. I apologise."

"That's okay." Heyes paused for a moment, thinking how to choose his words carefully. He found that he wanted to convince this lady that he and Kid weren't just the no-account drifters they appeared to be, living a life that was both footloose and of little worth. He was uncomfortably aware that from the moment she had bent her disapproving look on him as he'd sat with the deck of cards on her porch, he'd been trying to make up ground.

"I guess it probably doesn't sound too impressive, the way we get by. All I can say is, we're aiming for something better. Just… we haven't quite got there yet." It sounded lame, even to him. But either his words or perhaps the tone of his voice must have conveyed something to the tough and thoughtful woman by his side. After a short pause, she nodded. "Well, the Lord helps those that help themselves. Sometimes the main thing is to be trying, whether or not it gets you anywhere."

-oooOOOooo-

Kid had been working on the pasture fence for an hour or so, when he spotted Will heading across the open ground towards him. Resting his shovel against a nearby post, he waited for the boy to reach him. "Hey there."

Will came to a halt in front of him. "I finished seein' to the stock. Thought maybe you could use a hand here."

Kid found it hard to suppress a smile at the way the boy expressed his intention. "Well, I guess an extra pair of hands might make things run a little quicker… But how about your sister? Doesn't she need some help with tending the crops?"

Will stirred the dust with the toe of one boot, then cast a quick look over his shoulder back towards the way he'd come. "I reckon she'll manage."

"You reckon, do you?" Kid rested one elbow on the fence, giving him a level look. "Wouldn't have anything to do with hoeing weeds being an awful slow way to spend a day, would it?" He gave the boy a few seconds to respond, and when no answer was forthcoming continued, "You reckon she'll see it that way too?"

"Maybe…" Will dug his boot into the dirt.

Kid considered for a moment. "Okay. Here's the deal. You can lend me a hand fixing the fence this morning; should be we'll get it done come noon. Then after lunch, you and me'll both go help your sister with the crops. Take our turn."

Will looked up, a quick grin coming onto his face. "Okay, Mr Jones!"

Despite the likelihood that Will had come to mend fence as an escape from his more mundane chores, he nonetheless made a useful pair of hands. He had a good eye and handled tools confidently, demonstrating construction skills that more than matched Kid's own. Coupled with his youthful enthusiasm and Kid's determination to get the job done, this made for good progress and the sun had not been long overhead when they dropped the last rail into place.

Stepping back and knocking dust from his hands, Kid surveyed the section they'd just finished, then turned and ran his gaze along as much of the fence line as he could see from where they were standing. He let a smile of satisfaction come to his face. "That'll do it."

"Just try and let them ol' cows skip out of here again!" crowed Will, equally satisfied. Maybe more so, given that he and his sister were the ones tasked with the job of herding the strays up. Kid looked at him. "Good work, partner." He bent and started picking up some of the tools: Will hurried to help him. As he did so, the boy spoke up again. "I like fixin' things."

"You're pretty handy at it. I guess your pa showed you how, did he?"

"Yeah." As Kid started to walk along the fence line back towards the homestead, Will fell into step with him. "Pa said that every job's got a right way and a wrong way to be done. That the right way sometimes takes a little longer, but the wrong way doesn't last but half the time before it needs doing again."

"He's right about that."

"He was right smart at mending things, so's you couldn't hardly tell they'd ever been broken. And he made ever'thing we needed, built the chairs and table and my and Ginny's beds and ma's store cupboards. He showed me how, wood working and such." A note of wistfulness had crept into the boy's voice. Kid looked at him: the boy's face was a little downturned, his features slightly clouded. Feeling for him, the outlaw briefly laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well… You're a credit to your pa, Will. Just watching you work this morning, I could tell he taught you real good."

As they walked along the edge of the crop fields close to the house, Ginny appeared from between two rows carrying a hoe, looking hot, dusty and annoyed. "Will, where've you been at?"

"I was helping Mr Jones finish mending the fence," replied Will assertively. Ginny looked from him to Kid, who gave a nod. "I said he could lend me a hand. And we got the job done. So after lunch, we'll both come and help you with what needs doing here."

Ginny brightened and wiped her hand across her dusty face, smudging the dirt there. "Oh. Well, that'd be good." She glanced up at the sun. "Figure it's time to eat some lunch now, though."

"Ginny, I was hoping you'd say that," said Kid with a grin.

-oooOOOooo-

A short while later, the man and the two children were sitting in the shade on the porch, eating their lunch and slaking their thirst with mugs of cool well water. Will made his food disappear with a rapidity that set his sister to giving him a disapproving look, a look that seemed to have little or no effect. She resorted to outspoken admonition. "I'll bet you didn't chew one bite of that before you swallowed it."

"Did too."

"Ma'd make you have a dose, if she'd seen you eat that way."

"Well, she didn't see it," countered Will logically. "And you ain't gonna tell her."

Interposing to try to keep the peace, Kid said, "What time do you reckon your ma and Joshua will get back from Lawton?"

"Probably not till sundown," said Ginny. "Ma said she had a lot of errands to run, as well as trading goods and getting more stores."

"Still don't see why we couldn't of gone," grumbled Will from where he now lay on his stomach on the porch floor. His sister sighed. "Ma's got better things to do than having to make you mind her while she's in town."

"She didn't take you neither," retorted Will provocatively. Sensing a potential escalation, Kid intervened again. "Well, nor me. My friend Joshua's the only one got to go along, so it looks like we'll all just have to make the best of things here." He smiled at Ginny, hoping to pour oil on troubled waters. "What was it you would have done in town on a hot, dusty summer's day like today, anyways? It would have been a long ride there and back, and likely a lot of standing around listening to grown folks talk about politics and the weather. Don't you think you're both better off staying here?"

Both children regarded him with considering expressions. Will rested his chin on his hands. "I wanted to have a look-see in Mr Wilder's store. Last time we went into town he had a bone-handled jackknife in there with three blades."

"And it cost way too much money," said Ginny.

Will's expression grew stubborn. "I'm saving every cent I get. When I got enough, I'm gonna buy it."

Kid said, "How about you, Ginny? You like going into town?"

"Sometimes." A thoughtful look came onto her face. "We all went in for the church social and picnic, about a month back."

"Sounds like it must've been a good time."

"It was okay." Her expression suggested otherwise. Kid studied her.

"Now that looks like 'okay' means 'not really'."

"I liked the picnic. And they give all us children stuff, old bundles of newspapers that other folks didn't want no more, and they had stories in you could read a chapter of and then read the next one in the next paper…" She was growing more animated. "Ma let us bring a whole pile back home with us."

"You like stories?" asked Kid.

"She _writes_ stories," piped up Will, grinning. If looks could have killed, his sister's would have dropped him dead on the spot. "What?" Will demanded, at her glare. "You do!"

"Don't you say another word," threatened Ginny, her face growing crimson.

"She writes stories in an old notebook, and she hides it under her mattress when she thinks I ain't looking," Will informed Kid serenely. "I seen her do it. And I read 'em, too. Some of 'em ain't half bad."

"Will Reed, you hush right now or I'll make you hush!" exclaimed his sister.

"You really write stories?" said Kid. At Ginny's mortified expression, he gave her a reassuring smile. "I mean to say, that's a pretty smart thing to do. You oughta be proud of it."

Ginny's blush diminished slightly. "You like stories?"

"Sure. I'm not a big reader, though. My friend Joshua, he's the one you'll find with his nose stuck in a book most of the time. Sometimes I have to pitch something at his head to make him hear me when I'm trying to talk to him."

"That's what _she's_ like," Will informed him.

"Well, nothing wrong with reading and writing," said Kid. "I get by, but sometimes I kinda wish I'd paid more attention when I was getting schooled."

"We don't go to school," said Will. "Ma and Asa make us do book learning at home. But some of them kids at the church picnic figured just because we never come to school, we must be as dumb as a bag of rocks. Said we was nothing but ignorant back country dustbusters."

"So what did you say to them?"

"Pushed one of 'em in the horse pond," answered Will with satisfaction.

"Well, that's one way to win an argument," agreed Kid, remembering his own fiery childhood temper. He looked at Ginny. "I hope you didn't wind up in the thick of it with your brother here."

"I didn't push anyone in the horse pond." Ginny's eyes glinted. "But I sure wanted to. Some of those girls were as mean as yellowjackets. Made fun of me just 'cos I wasn't wearing store-bought clothes. Like they stepped out of some city fashion plate."

"I'll bet you could write a really good story about them," said Kid. "Make 'em look pretty big fools, and they wouldn't be able to do nothing about it."

Ginny looked inspired. "I never thought of that." A slow and dangerous smile crept over her face. "Maybe I will."

"Don't get mad, get even." Kid got to his feet, brushing crumbs from lunch off his clothes. "But right now, we better get out and tend to those crops, or the only person getting mad will be your ma when she comes home and finds half the work round here not done."


	15. Chapter 15

**One Good Turn – Chapter Fifteen**

It was a little after midday when Mrs Reed drove the laden cart down the main street of Lawton, and pulled up outside a building with the sign WILDER'S GENERAL STORE AND SUPPLIES hanging above the door. Heyes lent a hand with carrying the goods from the back of the cart into the store's dark and cool interior, stacking them at one end of a counter which ran the length of the rear of the store. They were assisted by Frank Wilder, an amiable man who was evidently pleased to see both Mrs Reed and her produce.

"All that you've brought in is a sight for sore eyes, Mrs Reed," he proclaimed, as they placed the last baskets and boxes on the counter. "Is that your raspberry preserves I spy in some of those boxes?"

"Yes, Mr Wilder. I've put up thirty jars for you. Hope you find folks are partial to it."

"Once people get the word I have it on my shelves, it'll be flying out of here before you can blink," replied Wilder. "I'll be taking some home myself. Even my Minnie says you make preserves to rival any other lady's in town."

"That's good of her to say so," said Mrs Reed, looking quietly pleased by the compliment. "You be sure to give her my best wishes."

"Surely." Wilder was now looking through the goods that had been piled up, and writing figures with a pencil in a small notebook. "Just give me a moment here, and I can settle up with you right away. Will you be wanting to take any supplies today?"

"I do have a few things I'm needful of," answered Mrs Reed. "But I also have some errands to see to in town. So if you could settle up with me just now that would be fine; then I can see to my other business, and come back here afterwards to buy a few things from you."

"Of course." Wilder nodded, then went back to his calculations in his notebook.

Mrs Reed turned to Heyes, who had been looking around the store and taking in the atmosphere compounded of food, tobacco and dry goods. "Mr Smith, my business is likely to take me a couple of hours or so. Would you be agreeable to meeting me back in here at three o'clock?"

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes took out his pocket watch and checked the time: a quarter to one. "But are you sure there's nothing else I can help you with, while we're here?"

"No, thank you. My town errands are light ones. You can lend me a hand to load up the wagon once I've bought our supplies, later on."

"All right." Heyes touched one finger to the brim of his hat, and smiled. "Then three o'clock it is."

Over at the counter, Wilder opened a cashbox and took out some money, counting out bank notes. He turned to Mrs Reed. "Here you go, ma'am. I make it thirty-five dollars even, if you're agreeable to that price."

"Thank you, Mr Wilder." Mrs Reed took the money and folded it carefully into her purse. "I'll be back a little later on, as I said, to buy a few supplies."

"Always glad to do business with you, ma'am," said Wilder, escorting her and Heyes to the door.

-oooOOOooo-

Once out in the bright sunny street, Heyes and Mrs Reed took their temporary leave of each other and set off in different directions. Heyes decided to follow a customary pattern: casually checking out the local lawman's office, to make sure that he wasn't an old acquaintance; scoping out what hotels and accommodation were available, at what price (and at what distance from the livery stable); noting the locations of the least disreputable saloons; and finally making a visit to the town's doctor to buy a fresh supply of quinine for Asa Lee. When his own errands were done, appetite signalled that time was moving on, and he made his way towards one of the town's two restaurants for something to eat.

The place wasn't busy, giving Heyes an opportunity to sit at a table up against a window that overlooked the street, a precaution he generally took when eating alone in a new town. The cheerful middle-aged waitress brought him his lunch with coffee that she seemed happy to refill at encouragingly regular intervals. Thus provisioned, Heyes found himself quite content to sit and watch the world go by for a while, taking in the sights and sounds of the busy frontier town.

He had been sitting there for some time when a familiar face caught his eye: Mrs Reed, emerging from a building across the street, a few hundred yards down from the restaurant. She came out onto the boardwalk and moved a few steps down it, as if to be out of the way from the door she had just emerged from. Then she came to a halt and simply stood motionless, her hands folded together on her purse where she held it against her chest. Her gaze was turned out towards the street, but there was an unseeing quality to it that, together with her uncharacteristic immobility, held Heyes' attention. Many years of observing people had given him a well-developed ability to read the myriad tells of body language, and he was disquieted to see in Mrs Reed's stance unmistakeable signs of distress.

Heyes set down his coffee cup and started to push his chair back, intending to leave the restaurant and go out to the woman across the street… Despite not being certain of how she would receive his offer of assistance. But before he could stand up, Mrs Reed appeared to draw herself together. Lifting her chin, she took a quick glance either way along the street, as if checking whether anyone had seen her discomfort. Then she turned and made her way swiftly down the boardwalk, heading purposefully on her way to her next errand.

Heyes watched her go, frowning through the window. When the small but upright figure of the woman turned a corner and was lost to view, his gaze slowly travelled back to the doorway of the building she had emerged from. It was an unassuming frontage, with a neat sign too small to be read at a distance. Thoughtfully, Heyes drained the last of his coffee and got up to pay for his meal, then headed out into the street.

Crossing the road, he paused opposite the doorway. The elegantly-lettered sign next to it read: T. PAKENHAM: INSURANCE, REAL ESTATE AND BUSINESS BROKER. Heyes inwardly debated whether to go inside and do a little more fact finding, but decided against it. Instead he directed his steps back up the street, to a corner saloon he'd spotted before lunch.

Inside knots of men were gathered at tables drinking, talking and playing cards. Casting an assessing eye over them, Heyes made his way to the bar and caught the barkeep's eye. "A beer."

"Sure thing." The barman, a ginger-haired specimen with impressive mutton-chop whiskers, quickly had the frothy cold glass set up in front of him. "That'll be ten cents."

Heyes dropped the dime on the scarred wooden counter, picked up the glass and took an appreciative sip. The barman scooped up the money and dropped it into his cashbox, then swiped his cloth across the counter. "New to town, mister?"

"Yeah." Heyes gave the barman his friendliest smile. "Name's Joshua Smith."

"Ben Yates." The barman nodded sociably. "Here on business?"

"Business… and pleasure, maybe." Heyes took another drink. "My friend and me are looking for work, if there's any hereabouts. And I was thinking of sitting in on a few hands of poker, if the boys in here were amenable to that."

"Oh, they'll find room for you," said Yates. "They're mostly pretty friendly games we got going on here."

Heyes made a mental note of that _mostly_ , filing it away for later reference. "What kind of stakes do folks play for?"

"The fellers tend to go for a two dollar limit. Like I said, friendly games." Yates eyed him a little more closely. "You play a lot of poker?"

"No." Heyes let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Just pass the time by playing a few hands every now and then." He nodded towards the tables. "And a couple of dollars limit suits me just fine. I've played for bigger stakes now and again, but I guess the boys in here aren't likely to be doing that."

"No, sir." Yates leaned against the bar counter. "They ain't no high rollers."

Heyes smiled again, and was about to pick up his beer and drift over to one of the tables when Yates spoke again. "Course… If you was interested in playing in a game with bigger stakes… There's one happens most weeks, in the back room here on a Friday night."

"Oh?" Heyes tried not to sound too interested. "So I guess I just missed one, then."

"Yep. But they'll be playing again, come next Friday. If you're still around in town then."

"I could be. What's the buy-in?"

Yates pursed his lips. "Fifty dollars'll get you a seat at the table. If your pocket's that deep."

Heyes let his eyebrows lift a little as he considered. "Well… That's bigger stakes, right enough. I'll give it some thought. When would I have to put a stake down by?"

Yates shrugged. "Any time. Turn up on the night, if you want. There's usually a space at Mr Pakenham's game, most weeks."

Heyes' ears pricked up at the name. "Mr Pakenham? I guess he must be a prominent man, locally… To be setting up a big poker game like that."

"Not much in Lawton goes on, that Mr Pakenham doesn't know about," answered Yates. "He does a lot of business here in town. Owns this saloon, in point of fact; and a couple of the hotels up the street."

"So he's your boss?"

"Yep. And a good one." Yates said this emphatically.

"So if I was to show up here, say, next Friday, and ask to get in the game… You reckon he might be amenable to me sitting in?"

"Long as you got fifty dollars cash," grinned Yates. "Mr Pakenham never says no to a good business proposition."

"Well, then that accounts for his success," returned Heyes, grinning back. "Thanks for the information, Ben." Lifting his beer glass and giving the barman a nod, he turned and headed for one of the poker tables, to see what luck might bring.

-oooOOOooo-

The local cowboys and casual drinkers were about as good at poker as Heyes had expected them to be, and he turned a few dollars profit in the hour spent playing with them. Standing a round of beers bought him a little forgiveness, so when he finally picked up his money and left the table there seemed to be no unduly hard feelings. His watch revealed that it was almost three o'clock and he hastened across town back to Wilder's store, where he found Mrs Reed already going through her list of needed supplies with the storekeeper, who was placing items on the counter as she requested them.

"Afternoon, ma'am."

"Good afternoon, Mr Smith." Mrs Reed nodded at him, before returning to her list. "And two gallons of kerosene, Mr Wilder. Ten pounds of sugar, and the same amount of coffee. A gallon of molasses. Three skeins of grey wool, and two reels of thread. Nine yards of red flannel. Ten pounds of roofing nails…"

Heyes wandered to one side, idly looking over some of the store's fancy goods while Mrs Reed completed her purchases. In a glass-fronted case to one side of the counter lay some of the store's bigger ticket items: shaving sets, case watches, jack-knives, women's brooches and earrings; while a little further along a couple of nickel-plated revolvers gleamed on the shelf. Heyes eyed them consideringly, but his appreciation of guns was limited and strictly professional. Kid was the one who put a high value on his procurement and maintenance of revolvers. As for Heyes, he was content to carry a weapon that fired when he wanted it to and didn't go off unexpectedly, the basic minimum he asked of a gun. Truth be told, he would be even more content not to have to wear a gun at all… But until the amnesty came through, that was a pipe dream not worth losing sleep over.

Discussion behind him made him look round: he saw Wilder standing a little awkwardly behind the counter, looking both uncomfortable and conciliatory. Mrs Reed was frowning at her list. Wilder spoke again: "If you want, Mrs Reed, you can take it all now. I know you're good for it. You can settle up with me the next time you come in to trade."

"No, thank you, Mr Wilder." Mrs Reed's refusal was prompt. "I thank you for your offer, but that's not necessary." Her eyes bent to the heap of goods on the counter. "You may take back the flannel and the wool, and the linen sheeting too. I have no need of them right now. I just thought I would pick them up, as I was here. But they will do just as well for another day."

Wilder obviously knew his customer well, for he made no argument in the face of Mrs Reed's determination. "Certainly, ma'am. No trouble at all." He took the goods away; the overall cost now diminished, Mrs Reed paid, from what Heyes couldn't help seeing appeared to be a meagre handful of remaining bank notes. The change she received back from Wilder was only a few coins, which she put carefully back into her purse. Heyes found himself thinking, _Okay. What's wrong with this picture? She traded thirty-five dollars' worth of goods two hours ago - and now she hasn't got enough money left to buy ten dollars' worth of supplies?_

Mrs Reed turned to face him, and Heyes had his work cut out switching his gaze away from her purse and up to her face. "Mr Smith, will you lend me a hand to take these out to the wagon?"

"Of course." Heyes stepped up to the counter and picked up some of the goods, taking care to try to select the heavier items before Mrs Reed attempted to carry these herself. The pile of supplies was smaller than the goods that had been traded earlier, and the sacks and boxes were soon loaded onto the back of the cart. Bidding Wilder goodbye, Mrs Reed moved to get up in the driver's seat: Heyes politely forestalled her. "Ma'am, how about I drive back? Seems only fair, after you drove us here."

Mrs Reed regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "All right then, Mr Smith. Mind you go slowly, now."

"I'll take it real easy," Heyes promised solemnly. He handed her up into the front of the cart, got up himself, and took the reins.

Once they were under way Mrs Reed remained silent for quite some time. Sensing that she might be less than comfortable that he had witnessed her enforced budgeting in Wilder's store, Heyes also drove in silence, giving her space for her thoughts. After they had been passing through open countryside for a while, however, Mrs Reed seemed to return from her inner considerations. She glanced at the goods piled in the back of the cart, then settled herself more firmly on the wagon seat. "I should have asked you before, Mr Smith… Did you have much success with looking for work?"

"I'm not rightly sure as yet, ma'am," replied Heyes. "I asked around some, may have got a few leads… I was thinking me and Mr Jones could maybe ride into town again next week, see if anything's come of it."

"Cattle work?"

"No, you were right about that." Heyes smiled. "None of the ranches hereabouts are hiring right now. I checked on that."

"Work in general is pretty scarce, according to Mr Wilder. He says that there are plenty of men in town looking for work themselves. Which is not to say that you and Mr Jones won't find anything."

"No, ma'am. We'll keep an open mind, till we've had ourselves a good look about. And if nothing seems likely to turn up…" Heyes shrugged. "We'll head on out, try our luck elsewhere."

"Well, I'm sure I'll wish you both well, wherever you fix on." Mrs Reed looked out over the countryside stretching away from the road. "There's surely a place for everyone to thrive in, in a land as big as this one."

"That's a good thought," said Heyes. "I'll keep that in mind, on those days when our luck's been running a little thin."

"Luck always gets to running out, sooner or later," replied Mrs Reed. "But those folks who stick to it generally run up against more good fortune, if they keep on working towards it long enough. That's if the Lord is willing."

"Mhm." Heyes thought about the run of his and Kid's luck, over the past few years. _A little good fortune would be pretty welcome right now. Like maybe the Governor of Wyoming getting off his politically tender butt and making good the deal he promised us, over a year ago. Don't know if the Lord __is__ willing, but if he ain't, I'm about ready to consider making a deal with the other feller._

-oooOOOooo-

The journey back to the homestead took until evening. Heyes brought the cart to a halt outside the house as dusk was starting to grow. As he and Mrs Reed got down, the house door creaked open and Ginny came out. "Oh – I thought I heard the horse, ma." She headed down the steps to help her mother and Heyes with unloading the cart. "I've got supper cooking, it won't be but a little while till it's ready."

"Good girl. Where's your brother?"

"He's just finishing up in the barn, with Mr Jones." Ginny took an armful of stores and headed into the house.

Once the supplies had been carried inside, Heyes headed over to the barn. He found his partner helping Will sort through tools and lumber in a dark corner of the barn, by the light of a lantern. Heyes walked up to them. "Word has it that supper's about ready, if you're about done in here."

Will looked up eagerly. "Hey, Mr Smith!"

Kid looked around too. "How was your trip into town?"

"Fine. Got the quinine for Asa. But not a whole lot of work about."

"Nothing at all?"

"Maybe a couple of possibilities. I'll fill you in on the details later." Heyes let his glance touch briefly on the boy. Kid paused, then said, "Will… I reckon we're finished here, for now. It's gettin' so dark in here we can't see what we're doing, anyway. Why don't you head back to the house, and tell your mother me and my friend'll be in for supper in a couple of minutes."

"Okay, Mr Jones." Will laid down the armful of short lengths of timber he'd been holding, and left the barn. Waiting for a minute after he'd gone, Kid turned back to his friend. "So, what 'possibilities' did you find?"

"Poker," Heyes shrugged. "That's it. I asked around some, but there's nothing else going in Lawton. Which is what we expected, pretty much."

"So we could sit in on some games, build up our stake a little," Kid said. "You get a chance to size up the players in town?"

"Mh-hm." Heyes watched as Kid moved a few more pieces of timber to the side of the barn. "They're not going to set the world on fire. Figure you could even make a tidy few dollars, too."

"Why, thank you, Heyes." Kid tossed the last piece of wood onto the pile on the ground. "Your faith in me gives me a real warm feeling."

"The important thing is that we ride out of town better off than we started," replied Heyes. "Right?"

"Right."

"And there's a chance of winning some big money. One of the locals, feller named Pakenham, runs a big stakes game on Friday nights. I can get in the game, no problem."

"Big stakes?" queried Kid. "Just how big are we talking? Because if you're thinking of sitting in on something like one of Big Mac's poker nights, my nerves ain't up to it."

"No," Heyes reassured him. "I talked to the barkeep who runs the place where it happens: fifty dollars as a buy in. Which isn't to say that I couldn't maybe walk away with considerably more'n fifty dollars by the end of the night."

"Sounds okay," said Kid, after considering for a moment. "You're sure this Pakenham won't have a problem with someone from out of town just showing up and coming into his game?"

"Didn't sound like it," replied Heyes. "Barkeep said Pakenham's strictly business: you put money on the table, you're in."

"Okay then." Kid shrugged. "So you're thinking, we ride on out of here at the end of the week?"

"Yeah. I guess so." Heyes' response was oddly flat.

Kid looked across at his friend. "You don't sound too sure."

"Oh, I'm sure about the game. Just something else I'm not sure about."

"What?"

"Today in Lawton…" Heyes frowned, still thinking things through. "When we got there, Mrs Reed traded all her goods with this Frank Wilder, at his store. He paid her thirty-five dollars for them."

"Sounds about right."

"Then she heads off into town to do some errands or somesuch, so we arrange to meet back at Wilder's store later on. When we do, she doesn't have enough money to pay for ten dollars' worth of supplies. She wound up having to put some of what she needed back, because she wouldn't take anything on credit. Although Wilder was happy to put it on the slate."

"Well, that doesn't surprise you, does it? I can't see Mrs Reed sitting peaceful under owing anybody a dime."

"No, Kid – pay attention. She had thirty-five dollars, that Wilder paid her for the stuff she brought in. Then barely two hours later, she didn't have even ten dollars left." Heyes shook his head. "And there's something else, too. I saw her coming out of a business office in town, while I was sitting eating lunch. Just for a moment, she looked like she'd had the stuffing knocked out of her. I thought something had happened and I was going to go over and see if she needed help, but a second later she just up and walked off. Next I saw her she was buying her goods in Wilder's store, like nothing was wrong."

"What kind of a business office?"

"Here's where it gets a little weird: the name on the office sign said 'Pakenham'. Real estate, insurance and broker."

"Pakenham? The guy the barkeep said runs the big poker game?" 

"Yeah. And incidentally, Pakenham who also owns half the town, sounds like."

Kid frowned. "Heyes… I don't see why Mrs Reed would have anything to do with a man like that, considering how she sounded off to you about card playing the other day."

"Yeah. Maybe she just doesn't know that Pakenham runs a weekly poker game. After all, she's not likely to be moving in the same circles as the fellers who sit in on it." Heyes let out a heavy breath. "But that doesn't answer the big question. What business _does_ she have in Pakenham's office? Because whatever it is, I'm betting that's where she left most of her money this afternoon."

"You figure on asking her?"

"You think I'm crazy?"

"Nope. Just making sure." Kid bent down and picked a hammer up from the ground, laying it on top of the pile of timber. "But I know you, Heyes. You're not gonna let go of this… Are you?"

"It bothers me." Heyes regarded his friend. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"Yeah. Now you've told me about it, it does. But I still can't work it out. And short of asking Mrs Reed outright – which ain't going to happen - I can't see how we're going to find out."

There was a brief silence. At last, Heyes said, "You could be right. But it still bothers me."

"Well, knowing you, Heyes, if it bothers you that much you'll get to the bottom of it somehow." Kid picked up the lantern from where it hung from a nail. "I'm done here. Let's head in for supper."

As they fell into step, leaving the barn and walking across the yard, Heyes asked, "What were you and Will sorting out that timber and tools for, anyway?"

"Barn roof," answered Kid. "Reckoned that could be the last thing I patch up, before we head on out of here. It's full of holes – they'll be lucky if it lasts them another season."

"Fixing the roof?" queried Heyes. "Kid, I seem to remember the last time we worked on putting up a roof it was in Wickenburg… And you hit your thumb more times than you hit the nails."

"I remember it a little different," returned Kid. "I seem to recall you slamming a hammer into _your_ thumb a fair few times."

"Well, you did get knocked on the head pretty hard not long after," commented Heyes. "Could be you're misremembering."

"Heyes, you were knocked on the head just as hard as me. Anyway, come tomorrow we'll see who's better at swinging a hammer. You can lend me a hand up on the roof, while Will makes the shingles for us."

"Fine by me." Heyes let out a yawn as they crossed the yard. "Little fresh air and exercise, working up an appetite… Don't see why you should get all the easy jobs."

"You're the one got to take a nice easy ride into Lawton and back today. Not to mention, I'll bet you drank a few beers while you were 'looking for work' in town."

"Yep. And they tasted pretty good, I can tell you." Heyes sounded deeply satisfied.

"Uh huh." Kid spoke dryly. "Well, I can tell you, that bed's gonna feel pretty good to me when I take my turn sleeping in it tonight."


	16. Chapter 16

**One Good Turn – Chapter Sixteen**

The next day dawned as fine and sunny as the ones before it, the dry weather looking set to last for some time. The two outlaws were soon up on the barn roof, beginning the slow job of stripping off and replacing all the rotten or missing shingles with new ones made by Will. In places the underlying roof timbers were in need of attention too, and work progressed slowly. Sitting up in the full sun on the barn's roof soon grew uncomfortably hot, and both men were more than ready to take a break when noon came.

Wiping sweat from his face, Kid walked to the well, followed by his partner. He hauled up a bucket of water and scooped up handfuls into his face, letting out a breath at the feel of the cool water on his skin. As soon as he stepped aside Heyes took his place, taking off his hat and tossing it to one side before bending over and similarly splashing his face. Straightening up, Heyes picked up the bucket. "Here. You pour some over me, and I'll pour some over you."

Kid obliged, taking the bucket and tipping a cold stream of water over his friend's head as Heyes leaned forwards; then taking his turn as Heyes did the same for him. Finally Kid straightened up as Heyes set the bucket down and picked up his hat. "Ahhh… That's better."

Heyes sighed, running his fingers through his wet hair to push it back from his face. "Yeah. Sure is warm up there."

They both started to walk towards the house, where Will already sat on the porch. Kid jiggled a finger in one ear to dislodge some well water. "How long you figure it'll take us to get the job done?"

"Depends on how many more shingles need taking off. I'm pitching every third one at the moment… Don't think that roof's been seen to since it was put up."

"I guess so."

They had reached the porch, where Will gave them a grin. "Ma's fixed us some lunch. She said to tell her if you want more, she's out in the crops with Ginny." His announcement was somewhat muffled by the mouthful of food he was evidently already working his way through.

"Thanks, Will." Kid sat down, picking up a laden plate. Heyes did the same.

"Are the shingles I'm making okay?" asked Will. "I'm doin' them fast as I can, but I'm gettin' quicker the more I make."

"They're just fine," answered Kid. "You just keep 'em coming like you've been, no need to hustle any faster."

"Maybe I could come on up on the roof and lend you a hand some of the time," suggested Will hopefully. "Job'd get done even quicker with three of us."

Heyes and Kid exchanged a smile, then Heyes spoke to the boy. "Well, that's not what your mother agreed to, Will. The deal was, you stay on the ground while me and Thaddeus climb about on the roof."

"I'd be careful!" promised Will.

"I'm sure you would," Heyes nodded. "But a deal's a deal. Your ma doesn't want you up there. And we promised her we'd make sure you kept both feet on the ground."

"Getting tired of making shingles?" asked Kid.

"No…" Will reluctantly shook his head. "It's okay. But I know if I went up on the roof, I'd be able to help. And I wouldn't fall off."

"Then tonight you can ask your mother again," suggested Heyes.

"She'll only say no," replied Will despondently.

"Maybe." Heyes shrugged. "Or maybe, if you can show her you've been real sensible today and done what she said you were to do, she might change her mind. Either way, she's the boss."

"I wish I was older," said Will, scowling at his plate. "I ain't little no more, but ma acts like I am."

"She's just looking out for you," said Heyes. "That's what mothers do."

"Did your ma ever stop you from doin' things?" asked Will.

Kid looked at his friend, seeing how the boy's question momentarily brought a surprised expression to Heyes' face. After a second, Heyes spoke. "Well… I guess she must have done, sometimes. I don't remember real well. I lost my mother when I was a few years younger than you, Will. Mostly, it was my pa who kept me in line."

"Oh." Will sounded a little subdued. "Then… your pa, he told you what you had to do?"

"Pretty much." Heyes took another mouthful of his food.

"Ginny said Mr Jones told her you both lost your folks. That you went to live in a orphan house." Will regarded the dark-haired man steadily.

Heyes' gaze turned to Kid, who saw a momentary disquiet in his partner's eyes. Then Heyes looked back at Will. "Yeah. We did."

"After you lost your pa too?"

"After I lost my pa." Heyes set his plate down.

"What was it like in a orphan house?"

Heyes tried to smile. "Can't say as I remember it too well."

Kid kept his own gaze on his food. _You're the best damn liar I ever met, Heyes._

Will persisted with his line of enquiry. "Did they make you eat gruel?"

"Gruel?" Heyes sounded puzzled. "Not that I remember. How come you ask that?"

"It's what they made Oliver Twist eat, when he was in that ol' orphan house with all them other kids. I remember, when Ginny read out that story to me and ma a while back. They put Oliver Twist in a orphan house, and then he ran off and joined all them other boys, that were stealin' pocket handkerchiefs and such from folks." He frowned for a second. "I don't remember how it all ended up. Ginny was reading it a piece at a time from some old newspapers, like them we got at the church picnic… Only, I think we ran out of papers before we got to the end."

"Oh." Heyes looked thoughtful. "As I recall, it all panned out all right in the end. For Oliver, I mean."

"At least you and Mr Smith didn't have to eat any gruel, anyways," said Will cheerfully. "Ma gives me it to eat if'n I'm sick. It's awful."

"Worse than fever tea?" asked Heyes, grinning.

Will grinned back. "Not hardly. But almost ever'thing ma gives us when we're sick tastes so bad it fetches you out of bed right quick."

"Can't be a bad thing." Heyes glanced over at Kid, to see if he'd finished eating. "You done?"

"Yeah." Kid had just drunk his mug of water, relishing its coolness. "Why? You in a hurry to get back to work?"

"Figure we might as well keep at it. Got a lot of roof still to fix up." Heyes stood, picking up his plate and Kid's. "I'll take these inside, then I'll wander over there. You two can catch me up when you're ready." He gave a brief warm smile to Will, then headed indoors. Kid watched him go, a sober expression on his face. He wasn't fooled by Heyes' smile: he knew his friend too well not to notice that Heyes had just made the swiftest exit he could manage without being obvious.

Will fell to finishing the remains of his own lunch, a little more quickly than looked comfortable. Kid spoke to him. "No need to rush. Me and Joshua have got plenty of shingles up there to be going on with. You take your time and finish your lunch, and head on over in a little while."

Will slowed a little, struggling to finish the mouthful he'd just wedged in. When he got enough space to take air, he said, "I won't be long."

"Like I said: no need to hurry." The house door creaked open: Kid looked up, to see Heyes coming out. His partner descended the steps, pausing only to smile again in passing to Will. Kid rose and followed after him; as the two crossed the yard to the barn he fell into step beside his friend. They were silent: after a single glance at Heyes' face, Kid recognised clear signs that his partner was turning something troubling over in his mind.

They climbed back up onto the barn roof, and began working once again. Kid gave Heyes a good ten minutes to stew in silence. At last, considering he'd allowed him ample space to brood, he spoke. "All right. Spit it out."

"What?"

"C'mon. You're pissed at me. Get it out of the way, before Will comes back over here." Kid watched his friend frowning at the roof, hammering doggedly at a shingle. "Heyes."

"Not so loud." Heyes frowned harder, slamming his hammer home.

"He's a couple hundred yards away. He won't hear anything."

"Sounds like he's heard pretty much all of it already."

Kid leaned the head of his hammer against the roof, feeling annoyance building in him. "Okay. You want to get proddy over this? Then quit hammering a minute and listen."

Heyes set down his own hammer and turned to look at his partner. Kid spoke low but clearly. "When you were still laid up ill, I was lending Ginny a hand about the place. She just asked me about how I grew up, seeing as how I knew my way around a farm. So I told her."

"Told her what?" Heyes dark gaze was steady under lowered brows.

"That I'd grown up on a farm, in Kansas. That I'd lost my folks, same as you… and that we'd wound up in the orphan home."

"Anything else I ought to know about?" queried Heyes, shortly. "You told her about hailing from Kansas, and Valparaiso – don't suppose you let her in on anything else? Like, we ran away from Valparaiso? How about, 'Hey, me and my friend, we ran with the Devil's Hole Gang for a while, fancy that.' "

"What I told her, I just told you." Kid struggled to keep his temper.

"Why'd you have to tell her anything?" demanded Heyes. "Dammit, Kid – we're trying to keep a low profile. You keep telling people enough, they'll put the pieces together."

"Heyes, Ginny and Will aren't going to put anything together. They're just kids - "

"And suppose they talk to their mother? Or Asa Lee?"

"Suppose they did. You reckon either one of them would turn us in to the law?"

"Maybe not. But you still shouldn't have talked about it."

"I wouldn't have, if I'd known you'd stir up the dust like this."

"Hell, you gave those nuns a while back chapter and verse, too."

"Ah, come on." Kid pressed his lips together. "If we're gonna get into who said what in the past, I seem to recall you did a little talking yourself to Rachel Carson a while back."

"I'd been shot in the head!" exclaimed Heyes. "I didn't know what I was saying."

"Yeah, well you're getting pretty close to getting banged upside the head again, if you don't ease off me a little," retorted Kid.

"Ah – let's just drop it." Heyes picked up his hammer again. "What's done is done."

Kid waited for a moment, watching his friend tight-lipped. After a minute or so had passed he spoke again, quietly. "You want to know why I told Ginny about us losing our folks? She was talking about her father, about him dying. I just wanted to… tell her things would be okay, because she and Will and her mother have still got each other. That's all."

Heyes paused. Kid saw his friend take and let out a deep breath, staring down at the roof. Kid said, still quietly, "I know you don't like talking about it, Heyes. Neither do I."

At last Heyes looked up at his friend. His eyes showed that the anger he was venting was an attempt to disguise something else. "Yeah. I know." A few seconds passed in silence, then Heyes managed to drag a smile from somewhere up onto his face. "Forget it. I don't know why I got mad at you. I would probably have done the same."

Kid wasn't so sure. Neither of them had ever really made their peace with their childhood memories, but he knew Heyes more often got lost in their darkness. Consequently, his partner was less likely to revisit them if he could avoid it. But Kid recognised an olive branch when it was being held out.

"Okay." Meeting his friend's eyes, he answered Heyes' smile with one of his own.

Heyes visibly relaxed: his own smile became easier, tension releasing. He gave a half nod, saying nothing more. After a moment or two, both men returned to work.

-oooOOOooo-

The afternoon was turning into evening when the outlaws decided to call it a day and climb back down to ground level. Will looked up from where he'd been splitting a log into rough slices with an axe, ready to be smoothed off into roof shingles. "You run out? Won't take me but a few minutes to finish these."

"No, Will." Kid clapped the boy on the shoulder with one hand. "We're done for the day. So are you. Let's put the tools away."

The two men and the boy cleared away tools and timber into a corner of the barn, ready for the morrow. On coming out of the barn, the sound of a horse approaching made all three look up: their gaze found Asa Lee riding into the yard on a pinto horse. He raised one hand in greeting as he rode up to the barn, bringing his mount to a stop. "Good evening, gents."

"Hey, Asa." Kid and Heyes made their hellos to the healer, while Will moved quickly to take the pinto's bridle as Asa dismounted. The older man nodded at him. "Thank you, Will. You got room to put Wodi in the barn? He'll be ready for some water and a feed, if you can spare it. We've covered a fair few miles today."

"Sure. We got plenty of hay." Will ran his hand soothingly down the pinto's neck, before starting to lead it towards the barn. The three men turned to head over to the house: as they fell into step, Kid spoke. "Didn't figure on seeing you again so soon, Asa. Everything all right?"

"Surely." Asa nodded, with a smile. "Just been travelling about to a few folks needing some doctoring. I wasn't but a few miles off after my last port of call, so I reckoned I'd drop in and see how everyone here was getting on." His gaze settled on Heyes briefly, assessing the younger man's demeanour. "And it looks to me like all's well with you, Joshua."

"Yeah, it is." Heyes nodded. "Thanks to you. I'm feelin' like my old self again."

"Glad to hear it. You haven't had any more spells of chills or fever, then?"

Kid gave his partner a level look, which clearly said _'Fess up_. Reluctantly, Heyes gave a half-shrug, admitting, "Well… I did have kind of a turn, couple of days back. But it passed quick enough."

"Mh-hm." Asa regarded him steadily. "Still taking the quinine?"

"Yeah. Twice a day." Heyes' mouth made a wry shape as if he was tasting the bitter powder there and then. Asa nodded at him. "Good. Stick at it. You'll need to keep that up for a week or two yet."

"Uh huh." Heyes sounded less than thrilled.

"Cheer up, son." Asa patted him on the shoulder. "Looks to me like you're doing a pretty good job of shaking that marsh fever off. After a couple of weeks, you can try going a few days without the quinine. If all's well, you won't have any more problems… But if you get a bad spell again, go back on the quinine for a while longer."

"Speaking of which…" Heyes appeared keen to stop thinking about his upcoming doses. "I went along in to Lawton, picked up a fresh supply of quinine to replace what you've given me. It's in the house."

"Thank you, Joshua. It's a kindness you boys doing that; saves me a trip into town."

Running steps caught up with the men from behind as they neared the house porch: Will drew alongside them, catching his breath. "I gave Wodi a big pile of hay, and there's water where he can reach it. An' I put your saddle and gear up too."

"Thank you, Will." Asa laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And I'm sure Wodi thanks you, too."

"That's an unusual name for a horse," commented Kid.

"Wodi?" Asa smiled. "It's Cherokee. Means 'paint'. Sounds better in Cherokee."

"Thought he had kind of an Indian look to him," said Kid.

"He's a fine horse. Got him a good while back, and like me he's not getting any younger… But on days when I'm tired of traipsing over this country on foot, he's always happy to carry me where I need to go."

Reaching the house, the group headed inside. The smell of food greeted them as they entered the kitchen, Will springing ahead to announce, "Ma – Asa's come to supper."

Mrs Reed turned from the cookstove, a smile coming to her face. "Well, Asa. If that doesn't beat all. Here I was just wondering when we were going to get those jars of raspberry jam over to you, and here you are. You can just take them with you when you ride home."

"Now I know providence is watching over me," said Asa, nodding solemnly. "Not only do I get a fine supper cooked for me, but some of your preserves too. Bless you, Hannah."

"You'll stay the night," said Mrs Reed. "Wouldn't do for you to be riding home in the dark."

"I've done it before," replied Asa. "Don't put yourself to trouble on my account."

"It's no trouble, as you well know." Mrs Reed shook her head decisively. "You just sit right down at that table. Supper'll be ready in two shakes."


	17. Chapter 17

**One Good Turn – Chapter Seventeen**

After another hearty meal, the Reeds and their guests sat out on the porch for a while to enjoy the cooling evening air. Soon yawns from Ginny and Will signalled their bedtime, and they were shepherded away indoors by their mother.

Left to themselves on the porch illuminated by a single candle lantern, the three men kept a companionable silence for a while. The smoke from Asa's pipe drifted out onto the still air and the quiet sounds of night insects made a peaceful backdrop.

After some time, Kid heard Heyes shift in his chair, leaning forwards: he looked across at his friend and saw that Heyes had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Asa… I want to ask you something. But I'm not sure if I should." Heyes spoke in a quiet tone, glancing across at the older man.

Asa drew on his pipe. Showing no particular sign of disquiet, he responded, "That sounds like an uneasy state of mind. All I can say is, best to speak your piece; if I don't feel inclined to answer, I can tell you as much."

Heyes nodded. Casting a brief glance at the closed house door behind them, he said, "It's about Mrs Reed. I saw something when I went into Lawton with her, that got me to thinking. She traded a whole bunch of stuff at the store, and got a good price for what she brought in. But later that day when she came back to the store to buy her supplies, she didn't have enough money left to settle up."

Asa said nothing, still smoking as though unperturbed. Heyes continued, "Something else I saw, too. While I was eating lunch, I looked across the way and saw Mrs Reed come out of some businessman's office: Pakenham, the name by the door said. And when she came out, I could swear for a moment she looked like she was in a fix of some kind. I was going to head over the street and see if I could do anything, but before I could – she went off down the street. So I didn't see her again till later, when she was buying her supplies."

"You said you wanted to ask me something. So far, you've been telling me what you saw." Asa took his pipe from his mouth and regarded it. "Where are you heading with this, son?"

Heyes took a deep breath. "The long and the short of it is: I figured – _we_ figured – that maybe Mrs Reed was in some kind of money trouble. Because it seemed like she came out of that Pakenham feller's office with a world of care on her shoulders. And the both of us, we feel like we've gotten to know this family pretty well. And thinking they might be in trouble, well… It makes both of us kind of uneasy."

"I still don't hear a question," remarked Asa.

"Okay. Then I'll ask it. Does Mrs Reed owe someone money? This Pakenham feller? Because I've been thinking about what I saw in Lawton, and I can't put any other spin on it."

Asa was silent for a minute, still looking down at his pipe. At last he sat forward in his chair, turning to face Heyes and Kid. "I'm almost minded to answer your question. But before I do, you tell me this: you think she'd have thanked you for butting in, if you had set off across the street when you saw her?"

"Uh, no." Heyes' reply was definite on that account. "I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have."

"So why do you want to know about her business?"

Heyes and Kid exchanged looks. Then Heyes turned back to face the older man. "Asa, me and my friend Thaddeus have had nothing but kindness from Mrs Reed and her children. She took us in when I was sick, looked after me while I was laid up; and hasn't taken so much as a dime off us in return. She's a fine lady, and we owe her… And we don't much like the idea that she could be in some kind of fix. That's why I'm asking you about what I saw."

Asa regarded Heyes and Kid for a long moment, his brows drawn together. Then he gave a look over his shoulder towards the closed house door, as if listening for any sound from within. Finally he turned back towards the two younger men. "If Hannah knew I was telling you this, I'd be in hot water. You boys better know how to keep a confidence, and keep it close."

"We won't let on that we know a thing," said Heyes seriously, and beside him Kid nodded in emphatic agreement. Asa inclined his head slowly. "Well. I'm going to trust you both." He leaned forward a little in his chair, dropping his voice to a quieter pitch. "When you were in town, Joshua, did you hear tell of anything about Thomas Pakenham?"

"Not much." Heyes shrugged. "Barkeep in a saloon told me he was a successful local businessman, owns a few places in town… And he, uh, plays poker. Or so I hear." He tried to sound casual about the last piece of information.

Asa nodded. "Then you hear right. Pakenham is a big man in Lawton. About fifteen years ago, after the war, apparently he showed up there and started up his business. Small-time at first. But over the years he did pretty good for himself: some folks said, maybe too good to be true. But they said it quiet, if Pakenham was in hearing distance. After what happened to some of his business competitors."

"Let me guess." Kid got a wry look on his face. "They found their businesses started to get into trouble, unless they agreed to sell out to Pakenham?"

"That's about the size of it." Asa shook his head. "Nobody ever said anything outright against him… But he got himself a reputation. And the thing was, Pakenham just didn't care. Any whispers about him or rumours, he turned 'em right around as if they was compliments. Told anyone who'd listen that he had never lost a cent in a business deal, and never planned to either. And the thing is, quite a few folks kind of fell under his spell. I guess success looks good to people who've come out of hard times, like the war. When Pakenham talked, all they saw was that he was confident and made money, and that made them feel good about doing business with him. So more folks went to him, and pretty soon Pakenham was able to buy up more businesses in Lawton. In a few years he went from arriving in town with just the clothes on his back to being a rich man. Nowadays he's probably one of the richest men in Lawton. I even heard tell he's planning to run for mayor next year… And it wouldn't surprise me if he got elected."

Heyes thought of his exchange with Ben Yates, in the saloon in Lawton the day before.

_- Not much in Lawton goes on, that Mr Pakenham doesn't know about. He does a lot of business here. Owns this saloon, in point of fact; and a couple of the hotels up the street._

_- So he's your boss?_

_- Yep. And a good one._

Aloud, Heyes said, "So Pakenham is mighty good at making money, and ambitious with it… But just what has he got to do with Mrs Reed?"

"I'm coming to that." Asa spoke in a voice even lower than before. "I first met Ned Reed during the war. We got to be close, the way some of us did in those times. When the fighting ended, Ned went back to Hannah and I headed out here to find some space and a little peace; and that was the last I expected to ever see of him, good friend though he had been in those few bad years.

"Then a year or so later, one day I up and got a letter from him. The long and short of it was, he and Hannah were finding life more than a trial, trying to stay settled in the parts they hailed from. Folks there got pretty well ruined during the war… And things stayed bad for a long while after. What Ned wrote, was that it felt like the war was still going on for most of the people around him: and he'd had more than he could take of it. So he wrote to ask me if I thought there might be land out here he and Hannah could settle on, and raise a family. Of course I wrote him back, said I didn't know of any reason why not, although it was pretty dry country out here. Next thing I knew, a few months later Ned and Hannah showed up at my place and within another month he'd bought the land for their homestead and they settled a few miles from me."

Heyes and Kid watched the older man: Asa seemed to be back in the past, smiling a little as he recalled those years. "Not too long after, Ginny was born; then a couple years on, they had Will. I was mighty proud to have a friend like Ned as a neighbour, and I hit it off with Hannah from the first day I met her: that woman hasn't a bad bone in her body. They let me into their family and I got to see those young 'uns grow up, which I have always taken as a privilege."

"From what I've heard, it's because of you they got a chance to grow up," commented Heyes. "Thanks to your doctoring."

Asa smiled again. "I was proud to help out." Then his smile faded. "Just wish I'd been able to do the same for Ned, when his time came."

"What happened?" asked Kid. "Ginny told me he caught pneumonia… And that you and Mrs Reed tried to pull him through - but that he just didn't make it."

"That's more or less it." Asa's mouth settled into a bitter line. "Except, Ginny and Will don't know the reasons behind why their father wound up getting pneumonia. Which is the way Hannah wants it to be."

There was a long silence. At last, after exchanging a careful glance with Kid, Heyes said quietly, "It had something to do with Pakenham."

"It had everything to do with Pakenham." Asa let out a long, heavy sigh. "When Ned bought this place, he spent every last cent he had. He and Hannah worked their fingers to the bone getting the house and barn up, and the land set to rights so's they could make a living from it. And then, right after Will was born, they just hit a bad run of luck. We had drought three years running: no-one in these parts raised any kind of crop while that was going on. Then there was a cattle sickness took hold after, spread like wildfire: Hannah and Ned lost their beasts the same as their neighbours did. I just about scraped by, but I'm a bachelor and I don't keep livestock nor raise crops: Hannah and Ned had a young family to feed and clothe.

"I remember coming by one day to see how they were faring, and I never seed a man so tore up inside. He said to me, 'This place is for me and my family. It's the only bit of peace I ever found, since the war. And I'm damned if I'm gonna lose it.' It fair scared me to hear him talk."

"Let me guess." Heyes had a sinking feeling that he knew what was coming. "He borrowed money off Pakenham, to keep the farm."

Asa nodded. "One of Pakenham's lines of business is making loans. He doesn't run a bank, as such: but he's known in town for lending money to people that banks won't give the time of day to… at high interest. Ned went to ask him for a loan, for buying seed and livestock to try to stay on the farm. Pakenham must have known Ned was desperate, so he made Ned an offer that a man who wasn't up against it wouldn't have looked twice at. Pakenham offered to lend him the money, but the yearly interest was almost as much as the loan itself. And Ned had to put up the farm as collateral."

"Holy…" Kid shook his head, letting out a hissing breath through his teeth. "He didn't go for it?"

"The way Ned saw it, he didn't have a choice. It was either take the loan on Pakenham's terms, or sell up his land right away. And Ned wouldn't give up his land." Asa paused, staring out into the darkness. "I didn't know what he'd done, till a month after he'd done it. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he just said, 'I aim to stay here. And I'll pay back every last cent that bloodsucker lent me.' "

There was a longer pause this time. After a minute or two of silence had passed, Kid said, "So Ned tried to make up the repayments to Pakenham. But he couldn't do it."

"He did what he could. He worked like a man possessed. They had some good years, some fair to middling ones, kept the farm going. But it was more than any man could do, to make enough money from this place to raise a family and to pay off what Pakenham had asked for. I reckon Ned managed to cover some of his payments, but every year he slid just a little further backwards into debt, what with the interest and all. And it ate away at him: I reckon Pakenham kept on dangling it in front of him, that he could take away his place anytime he had a mind to, if Ned fell too far behind. Put him and Hannah and the children out, with no home and no future.

"So the only way out that Ned could see, was to work harder. He worked every hour God granted him, rain or shine. And one winter he got soaked through working out in a rainstorm, and kept right on. Took a cold and wouldn't rest up. Not even Hannah could make him go to bed. Then it settled into his chest. By the time Hannah sent for me, he'd been ill nearly a week. Only fetched up in bed when he couldn't stand up to work. I tried my best; Lord knows me and Hannah both did. But Ned was just worn out. He'd given everything he'd got, to hold onto this place."

Asa paused again in his narrative. Both Kid and Heyes could see from the sadness on Asa's face that revisiting the tale of what had happened to his friend was bringing back painful memories.

After a moment, Heyes said quietly, "That's a hell of a thing to have happened. How… did Mrs Reed figure she could stay on here, with her husband gone?"

"Well, now." Asa gave a half-glance back over his shoulder towards the house, then turned back to Heyes and gave him a slight smile. "You've gotten to know Hannah pretty well these last couple of weeks, I'm guessing. Does she strike you as someone who gives up easy?"

"No, sir." Heyes gave a wry smile in return.

"Then that's your answer. Hannah wasn't going to be driven off her homestead any more than Ned would have been. She sees this place as his legacy to his children… And she made up her mind to keep on paying back Pakenham, just as Ned would have done."

"I don't see how she can rightly manage it," responded Kid, frowning. "Hell, this place must be hard enough for her to feed herself and her kids from, never mind make enough on top of that to pay off a debt."

"I don't know how she does it either," replied Asa. "My guess is, by going short herself most of the time. And you've probably seen, this place is sorely in need of attention. I know you boys have been pitching in and lending a hand while you've been staying here, and I can't tell you how that's gladdened my heart to see. I'd do more myself, but Hannah won't take more than an occasional helping hand from me."

"How much does she owe Pakenham?" asked Heyes, frowning like his partner.

"That I don't know," Asa answered. "My guess is, a good part of what Ned originally borrowed. With the amount Pakenham charged Ned, I don't see how Hannah can be doing much more than just covering the interest each month with what she can raise from this place, just her and the two children." He hesitated, looking uncomfortable, then continued: "Truth to tell… Once, I decided I was going to try to make things easier for her. So I rode in to Lawton and went to Pakenham's office. Told him that I was a friend of Hannah's, and that I wanted to pay something off the debt. I had a little bit of money put by, thought maybe it'd take some of the burden off her. But Pakenham wouldn't take it: said he couldn't let a third party get involved, without the say-so of the original client. Plus you could see, the man was close to laughing in my face when I offered him the little I had. I guess it was pretty small change to him."

"I'm beginning to take a serious dislike to Thomas Pakenham, and I ain't even met him yet," remarked Kid.

"Worst thing was, he told Hannah about it, after. Said I'd been in offering to help pay off her debt." Asa stared down at his hands, folded around his pipe in his lap. "I don't know exactly what he said to her, but I can guess it hurt her pride something terrible. She had words with me right after: told me if I ever went behind her back like that again, our friendship would be over. Made me promise never to interfere in her business again. So I gave her my word."

Kid and Heyes met each other's gaze. After a little while had passed with Asa saying nothing more, Heyes eventually broke the silence. "Well, now we know what's going on. But we can promise you, Mrs Reed won't hear from us that we found out. And you have our word on that."

"Thank you." Asa let out a long, slow breath. "I trust you boys. But I tell you, some days it weighs heavy on me, thinking about how hard life is for Hannah and her children, and knowing I can't do a thing about it."

"What weighs heavier on me is knowing how that chiseler Pakenham is bleeding this family dry, and he thinks he can just get away with it," said Kid in a tone that showed his temper had been thoroughly stirred up. Heyes looked at his friend and saw all-too-familiar signs of anger lighting a fuse, a process that he knew from experience could lead to trouble unless attended to right away. Quickly he spoke up.

"Well, I guess under the law he _can_ get away with it, hard as that is to live with." He caught Kid's eye and held it with a steady look of his own. "I feel the same as you, Thaddeus - but it sounds like there's not an awful lot we can do, except what we're already doing: work as much as we can to get this place on its feet, before we move on from here."

"That's right." Asa nodded in agreement. "You already know, Hannah won't take a cent off you in return for putting you up here, but doing some work around the place is a different matter. And as for the business with Pakenham… Well, there's nothing I nor anyone else can do about that, as far as I can figure. Except what I'm already doing, which is to be as good a neighbour and a friend to this family as I can. Lord knows I'd do more if Hannah would let me, but she won't, so that'll have to be the end of it."


	18. Chapter 18

**One Good Turn – Chapter Eighteen**

Asa's conversation left both outlaws disturbed by the dire situation that Mrs Reed was caught in. Filled with anger at the injustice of the financial burden that the hard-working family was carrying, Kid found it hard to get to sleep. From the restless sounds that came from where his partner was taking his turn at sleeping in the bed, he guessed that Heyes was similarly preoccupied.

The next morning after breakfast, Asa bade the Reeds and their two guests farewell, and rode off back to his own cabin in the hills. Kid and Heyes resumed work on the barn with Will, continuing the painstaking process of checking and repairing the roof shingles… But with thoughts of the Reeds' predicament still preying on their minds.

When they came in for the midday meal they were still subdued, to the extent that Mrs Reed remarked on it. "I hope you boys aren't putting in too many hours up on that barn roof, in all this hot sun. You both seem a little peaked."

Heyes looked up from his food, meeting his partner's gaze: they both quickly brought smiles to their faces and directed them at Mrs Reed. "Oh no, ma'am. We're fine."

"Are you sure, now?" She regarded them both narrowly. "That old barn's stood a good while with no-one tending to it, it won't take any harm from you two slowing down a little. You're doing a fine job on that roof, but I don't want you working yourselves ragged to get it finished before it's time for you to move on."

Heyes thought of Ned Reed, working himself into an exhausted early grave. He gave Mrs Reed another cheerful smile. "No, ma'am, we won't. But I reckon Thaddeus and me will have it all fixed up by the end of the week."

"Especially with Will here doing such a fine job of keeping us supplied with new shingles," added Kid, nodding at the boy. Will looked well pleased by the compliment, glancing first at Kid and then at his mother. Mrs Reed looked at him, and a smile softened her face. "I'm glad to hear it. I know my boy's a good worker, when he sets his mind to it."

"Give the three of us another couple of days, I reckon we should be pretty much done." Heyes took a drink from his mug, emptying it. "Which is something of a shame, because I can tell you I'm going to miss all this good food when we go."

"We'll miss having you boys about the place, too," replied Mrs Reed with unexpected frankness. Then she turned from the table and began to tidy the remains of lunch away, quickly returning to her usual busy way of being.

-oooOOOooo-

Back up on the barn roof, the two men worked for some time in silence. Kid became absorbed in the task, a little stupefied by the summer heat and the endless repetition of taking rotten shingles off, checking the timbers underneath, and nailing new shingles into place overlapping the previous row. He got almost to the edge of the roof and discovered he was out of nails; sitting back he wiped his hand across his sweaty forehead and looked across to his partner. "Hey, can you pass over a few nails, so's I can finish this row?"

Heyes didn't reply. He was sitting with one hand on his hammer, which was resting against the roof; his brow was drawn down into a frown of concentration, eyes gazing off into the middle distance. Kid regarded his inactivity for a moment, then tried again. "You planning on fixin' any more shingles today, or am I the only one workin' up here?"

Heyes blinked: appeared to return from wherever he'd been, and turned his head to look at Kid with an expression of puzzled inquiry. "Mhm?"

"I said: have you got any more nails over there? I'm all out."

"Oh. Yeah." Heyes looked around until he located the bag of nails nearby on the roof, then handed it across. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Kid took the nails, noting the way that Heyes still looked as though he was half elsewhere. "You plan on telling me what you're thinking over, or am I just gonna have to wait and find out?"

"Huh?" The puzzled look again. Kid took a slow, patient breath and hammered a nail home, pinning a shingle into place. "I can tell when you're scheming at something. And it doesn't take a genius to guess what you're thinkin' about."

"Oh?" Heyes raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Because it's the same thing that I've been mulling over since last night. What Asa told us, about the fix Mrs Reed's in with this Pakenham guy."

"You guess right." Heyes sounded a little discouraged. "But I don't have a clear idea yet, about how she could get out of paying back the debt."

"Not one single idea? Maybe that marsh fever affected you more than we thought."

"Hah." Heyes gave a quick, mirthless grin. "I don't see _you_ coming out with any inspired notions."

"That's your department, remember?" Kid responded. "Or so you keep telling me." At Heyes' irritated look, Kid shrugged. "Maybe Asa was right - that there's nothing anyone can do about the money Mrs Reed owes Pakenham. That all we can do to help, is get as much work done around this place as possible, before we ride on our way."

They regarded each other silently for a few moments – then Kid gave a half-shake of his head, laying down his hammer. "Okay, forget I said that. Even I don't agree with it, and I said it."

"Trouble is, what you're saying is the smart thing to do," said Heyes. "Don't get mixed up in this. Do what we can, fix up this roof, say a nice big thank you and ride on our way."

"But we're not going to do that," said Kid, watching him. "Are we?"

After a few seconds, Heyes shook his head. "I know it's the smart thing to do, but somehow I just can't bring myself to do it." He looked away, over towards the house across the yard, to the spread of land beyond. "I feel like I owe this family more than a few repairs and a polite thank you. If Mrs Reed hadn't taken a risk and let us come into her home, I guess… I might not have made it." He drew in a deep breath, then sighed. "So, no: I'm not planning on leaving here without at least trying to do something to get Pakenham off their backs. Just, I haven't figured out exactly how yet."

"You got any ideas at all?" asked Kid.

"Sure." Heyes pursed his lips. "What I come up with so far was, get in on his poker game this coming Friday. I make sure that I win against him… Then when he goes to settle what he owes me, I try to make a deal with him."

"So first of all, you gotta beat him at poker."

"Uh huh."

"In this big game he runs, every week."

"Yeah."

"Where I'm guessing, there'll be a few other players likely to be more'n a little handy at poker. Not to mention Pakenham himself, who you don't even know if you can beat."

"Little faith, Kid…"

"C'mon – you know as good as I do, going in blind to try and beat a man at his own game is playing against lousy odds."

"You got any better ideas?"

"You know I don't, but that doesn't make your plan sound any better."

"I should be able to beat him." A pause, then in a slightly more confident tone, "I'll manage the poker game. You know I can handle myself at cards."

"What about when you lost to Big Mac?"

"He cheated."

"No, he _outsmarted_ you – remember?"

"I won in the end. Remember _that?_"

"Yeah. I remember." Kid regarded his friend levelly. "I also remember Big Mac pretty much had us dancing to his tune, once he'd figured out who we were and told us he was ready to go to the sheriff if we didn't do what he asked us to."

"What's your point?"

"That rich men don't like losing." Kid held Heyes' gaze with his own, making sure that his friend listened carefully to what he was saying. "Just like Big Mac, this Pakenham guy is a big noise in the town he lives in. He probably has all kinds of other important men as friends, not to mention a whole bunch of other fellers who work for him. So if you figure on beating him at poker and trying to take his money, how you think he's gonna react?"

"Well, I guess he could be a little upset."

Kid raised his eyebrows. "You're right. You really don't have a plan yet."

"What's wrong with my idea so far? Just needs a little work on the details."

"Sure." Kid picked up his hammer again. "Keep on thinking. And let me know when you've got something better in mind."

-oooOOOooo-

As it turned out, it took the best part of two days and the rest of the barn roof before Heyes was able to present a strategy for tackling the Reeds' problem.

Kid and Heyes had nailed the final shingles onto the barn and climbed down the ladder for the last time, just as the sun was dipping towards the horizon. Will was clearing away the shavings and wood chips from around the bench where he'd been working, sweeping them into a rough pile and tossing them into a barrow to be wheeled to his mother's kitchen as kindling for the cookstove. Both men stopped beside him to bend and lend him a hand, picking up handfuls of wood shavings and dropping them into the barrow.

Soon the ground was more or less clear. Together the three headed inside the barn, putting the various tools they'd been using away in their rightful places. Walking back towards the barn doorway, Kid paused for a moment, looking up into the darkness of the roof. He was joined by Will and Heyes, who glanced at him, then similarly looked upwards.

After a moment's careful gazing roofwards, Heyes said, "Okay – you see a hole up there we missed, or something? Because if you do, I don't want to hear about it."

"Nope." Kid sounded full of satisfaction. "Just admiring a job well done, is all."

Heyes looked relieved, and slapped his partner on the back. "Glad to hear it."

Will spoke up. "It can rain as hard as it likes, won't one drop get through and spoil the hay or anythin' anymore!"

"Sure won't." Kid smiled at the boy. "Figure that roof'll keep the weather out for a good few years now."

They headed over to the house, where the usual hearty supper awaited them. All three fell to hungrily after their long day's work, and it wasn't until Kid was cleaning his plate with a piece of cornbread that he heard his partner make a comment.

"That was mighty fine stew, ma'am. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Mrs Reed acknowledged his compliment with a brief nod. "I thought you boys would all come in hungry, after the long day you put in on that barn."

"An' it's all fixed up now, ma!" exclaimed Will, looking up from his own food. "Every last bit. We put all the tools away and cleared up the yard, too."

"I'm beholden to you both," said Mrs Reed.

"Oh, no, ma'am," contradicted Heyes mildly. "We're just lending a hand, while we're here. Seems like it's the least we can do." He paused for a moment, looking around the table; glanced briefly at Kid, then continued in a quiet tone. "We're glad to help out. But now we've finished the barn… Well, we hate to leave you folks, but I guess it's time for us to be moving on."

Both Ginny and Will looked up in dismay, but Mrs Reed took the news with her usual quiet composure. She gave a nod of understanding. "Of course. You've given us more than enough help around the place. Mending fence, seeing to the barn roof… Not to mention, putting up with these two wild offspring of mine." She gave her children an admonishing look.

"It's been a pleasure, ma'am," said Heyes, and Kid nodded in agreement. "Wish we could stay on longer, but…" He caught Kid's gaze. "Well, there was that chance of work I found out about the other day, when we went into Lawton. It might not come to anything – but word was, the feller who's likely to be hiring is going to be in town this Friday night. So if me and Thaddeus want to try our luck at it, we'll need to head into town tomorrow… To make sure we don't miss him if he turns up early."

"Tomorrow?" Kid was taken a little off-guard by Heyes' announcement, but at his friend's steady look managed to follow his lead. "Oh, yeah: I guess so. We oughta ride out good and early, make sure we get there in good time."

"You mean, you're leaving tomorrow?" Ginny's despondent tone and her brother's wide-eyed look showed only too clearly how mournful a piece of news this was to the two children.

"Now, Ginny." Mrs Reed's warning tone failed to produce her desired effect: both sister and brother glanced at their mother, but then stared entreatingly at Heyes and Kid.

Heyes cleared his throat. "Well… Whether we get the jobs or not, we won't head on our way without coming and letting you folks know how we got on. We'll ride back here Saturday, visit with you again. That's if we haven't outstayed our welcome."

Both children turned their eager gazes on their mother. Mrs Reed regarded Heyes steadily. "You know that you're both welcome under this roof any time."

"Thank you, ma'am." Kid and Heyes spoke in unison.

-oooOOOooo-

Kid waited until he and Heyes were back in the room they slept in before he tackled the subject at hand. Making sure that the door was shut, he moved to the bed and sat down on it, then looked across to where Heyes was taking off his boots. "Okay. So we're riding to Lawton tomorrow. You mind telling me just exactly what else we're doing?"

Sitting on the bed made up on the floor, Heyes glanced up at his friend. "You know what we're doing. We're going to get ourselves fixed up with a couple of places in that poker game on Friday night. And I figure if we head in to town tomorrow, that'll give us a day and a night beforehand to get the lie of the land, find out a little more about Pakenham and some of his business dealings."

"_We're_ going to get into the poker game?" queried Kid. "Since when did it become _we_? I thought you said that you were gonna handle that side of things."

"Sure; I'll be the one who beats Pakenham. Don't worry about that."

"Heyes, whenever you say 'Don't worry', I worry. And just how is this plan any different to the one you talked about two days ago?"

"Because I finally figured out what we need to do."

"You mean, you figured out how to beat Pakenham at his big poker game, and then how to make sure he doesn't get so mad about losing that we wind up in big trouble?"

"Yeah. I've got it all worked out."

"Then amaze me with your genius, Heyes." Kid folded his arms and regarded his partner with a level gaze. Unperturbed, Heyes sat cross-legged on his bed on the floor. "Okay. First off, the poker game. That we don't need to worry about." He smiled at his friend. "Like I said, I reckon I can handle it. Chances are, Pakenham will be the best player at the table, as it's his game. So all I got to do is play it close till most of the other players are out, then make sure I sucker Pakenham in for high stakes before I beat him."

Kid shook his head. "And if you can't beat him?"

"I'll figure some way of winning the game." Heyes made a casual gesture with one hand. "Worst case, I might have to do a little sleight of hand. Nothing I haven't done before."

"You better do it real careful, then. Don't suppose the good townsfolk will take kindly to you card sharping, never mind what Pakenham'll do if he thinks you're trying to cheat him out of his money."

Heyes nodded. "You know me, Kid. They won't suspect a thing."

"Uh huh." Kid's tone was dry. "So you win the poker game. Pakenham owes you a pile of money, and he's probably madder than a nest of hornets that some outsider's come in and cleaned him out at his own poker table. Then what happens?"

"Let's think about what kind of feller Pakenham is. From what we know about him so far, he's a ruthless man. Likes to make money, and likes to hold on to his money. Maybe isn't too fussy about how he does that. Doesn't mind treading on other folks, if it means he can stay on top."

"Yep."

"We haven't met him yet, but I reckon we've run into men like him before. Fellers who stay on top by being the biggest bully in town. Doesn't matter if they're lawmen, or politicians, or railroad owners: you and I both know the type. They build themselves up a reputation, and pretty soon everyone dances to their tune because if they don't they could wind up in a whole mess of trouble."

"Right." Kid observed his friend steadily. "Which is precisely why I said to you two days ago, you needed to come up with a better plan than just waltzing in to town and trying to take Pakenham's cash away from him."

"Sure." Heyes nodded in agreement. "But ask yourself this: what is a man like Pakenham going to be influenced by?"

"Money."

"Okay, _besides_ money."

Kid shrugged. "Damned if I know. Sounds like money's all he cares about."

"Uh-uh." Heyes shook his head. "Remember what Asa said, about Pakenham planning to stand for mayor next year?"

"Yeah… So?"

"Pakenham must have worked all kinds of deals to get where he is now. Even Asa had heard rumours, of people he'd stepped on, men he'd put out of business. Yet there he is, still sitting pretty, owning half of Lawton, and looking to get elected to political office. It's like whatever dirt he steps in, just doesn't stick. Just how do you think he manages to pull that off?"

Kid shrugged. "I'm guessing, by buying off the people he can… and putting a scare into the ones he can't."

"Right. So for all these years, Pakenham has managed to be the scariest thing around in these parts. Until now."

Kid frowned slightly. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, till he met us."

"Heyes, I swear I haven't the haziest idea of where you're going with all this. And I'm pretty sure you don't, either."

"It's real simple." Heyes folded his hands behind his head, resting back against the wall. "I beat him at poker. He winds up owing me big money. Then we make him realise he's not the biggest, baddest thing in town any more, so he just better make good what he owes. That's when I offer him a deal… To write off Hannah Reed's debt. He takes the easy out: it saves him money, and avoids any trouble in the year leading up to his election campaign. We ride out of town, the Reeds are off the hook; end of story."

"There's just one detail you haven't been real clear about yet," responded Kid. "Just how exactly do we convince Pakenham that we're bigger and badder than he is?"

"Oh…" Heyes smiled up at his friend. "That's why I need you sitting in on the poker game too. At least to start with. You're going to be my dangerous and unpredictable partner."

"Dangerous and - " Kid stared at him.

"Unpredictable." Heyes smiled more broadly. "Maybe kinda mean, too."

"Heyes, what the - " Kid stopped himself, took a deep breath, then started again. "Okay. Maybe you missed a dose of quinine today, or somethin'. Because you're not making a whole lot of sense, and I'm hoping it's just a spell of fever coming over you again."

"It's real simple." Heyes spoke confidently. "You sit in the poker game and act like trouble brewing. Just be kinda surly and menacing, and every time you lose a hand look like you're taking it real personal. Play it careful: like you got a wicked temper, but you try to keep a lid on it. Once you're out of the game I'll drop a few hints when I'm talking with the other players, that you're not the kind of guy to get on the wrong side of. Then when I beat Pakenham and he's got to pay up, he's going to think we're more trouble than he wants to tangle with, just for the sake of a gambling debt. So he'll make a deal, when we offer it to him."

"And just what makes you think he's gonna believe for one minute that we're some kind of threat to him?" demanded Kid. "Me play-acting the bad guy at his poker table?"

"I got every faith in you, Kid," answered Heyes. "I know you can do it. Just stare at him, kind of cold and deadly-like. You'll see, it'll all work out fine."

Kid regarded his partner unsmilingly, from under lowered brows. Heyes pointed at him. "See – I knew you could do it. That's exactly the kind of way you should look at Pakenham."

"Heyes…" Kid's tone revealed the degree of exasperation that his partner's proposal was producing in him. "That has to be the most hare-brained, half-baked, far-fetched plan you have ever come up with." He paused for a moment, as if recalling certain other occasions; then qualified his statement with, "Almost."

Heyes looked up at him with a slightly wounded expression. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's _wrong_ with it?" Kid's voice rose in volume; catching himself, with a hasty glance at the shut door of their room, he continued in more subdued tones. "First off, you don't even know if you can beat Pakenham without him or some other player at that table spotting you dealing off the bottom of the pack. Second, you want me to act like some crazy gunhand with an itchy trigger finger, which is the exact opposite of how I've been trying to be over the past year. And third, we're supposed to scare Pakenham just enough so he'll fold - but if we overdo it we're just as likely to wind up in the sheriff's office, because I'm betting Pakenham's pocket is deep enough to buy the local lawman!"

Heyes gave him a look. "Well, that's kind of a pessimistic way of looking at things, Kid."

"Two days, and you couldn't come up with a better plan than that?"

"Hey – feel free to contribute your own brilliant ideas." Heyes regarded his friend challengingly.

There was a long silence. At last, Heyes raised his eyebrows significantly. Kid let out an annoyed breath. "Okay. You win. We'll go with your scheme." Heyes grinned: at this, Kid shook his head. "Just, if we end up sitting in a jail cell, you remember: I told you it was a bad idea."


	19. Chapter 19

**One Good Turn – Chapter Nineteen**

Rising early the next morning, both men ate breakfast with the Reed family before packing their saddlebags, then heading out to the barn to saddle their horses. As they led their mounts out into the yard Kid looked over to the house: he saw Ginny and Will sitting on the porch steps, gazing mournfully over at the two outlaws.

Kid nudged his partner in the ribs. Heyes glanced at him, then looked in the direction Kid was indicating with a nod of his head. Leading their horses behind them, both men walked across the yard to come to a stop before the porch.

Kid spoke first, smiling at Ginny and Will. "Well, you two look like you lost a dollar and found a dime. Hope you don't plan to spend the rest of the day dragging those long faces around with you."

Ginny spoke up beseechingly. "Do you have to go?"

Kid nodded slowly. "Yeah. We've got to see about finding some work, Ginny. Can't stay here forever."

"There's still things need doing," suggested Will, with an edge of desperation in his voice.

"Well, sure. There always will be, on a farm. But you know, I've a pretty good idea that the two of you can handle them," said Kid.

"And don't forget, we're coming back to see you, day after tomorrow," added Heyes.

"But you're not going to stay," said Ginny.

"No. We can't do that." Heyes spoke quietly, hoping somehow to ease the disappointment on the children's faces. "It's time for me and Thaddeus to move on. You've made us feel right at home here, but it's like he said: we can't stay here forever."

"You don't even know where you're going," said Ginny. "What if there aren't any jobs there, when you ride on into town? Where are you going to go then?"

"Oh, we'll find something," Heyes reassured her with a smile. "Me and Thaddeus are used to having to travel about looking for work. We'll make out okay."

The door of the house creaked open and Mrs Reed came out. She looked at her children, then nodded at Heyes and Kid. "You're ready to head off, I see."

"Yes, ma'am." Both men touched the brims of their hats.

"Well, I wish you luck in Lawton, finding this work. And we'll be expecting you back here for supper, Saturday evening."

"We'll look forward to it," said Kid with a smile; beside him Heyes nodded.

"All right then." Mrs Reed touched a hand to Ginny's shoulder. "Ginny, you and your brother get on and do your chores, now."

"Yes, ma." With a backwards glance, Ginny and Will rose and headed reluctantly away across the yard. Their mother gave Kid and Heyes a nod of farewell. "I hope you make good time riding in. When you get to town and look for lodgings, go to the Clearwater Hotel. The prices there are reasonable and the beds are clean."

The two outlaws acknowledged Mrs Reed's suggestion and mounted their horses; then turning their mounts around, gave a parting wave and rode out of the yard and on to the track that would lead them to Lawton.

-oooOOOooo-

The morning sun climbed higher in the sky as the outlaws' horses stepped out along the dusty road. At any other time Kid would have enjoyed the warmth soaking through his shirt and the mild breeze keeping him cool; but the prospect of the uncertain task they had ahead of them in Lawton sat naggingly in the back of his mind. He tried to take his mind off it by studying the landscape they were passing through, but the change of scenery from the Reeds' farm didn't hold his attention for long. He glanced to his left, to where Heyes was riding alongside him: his partner was wearing an abstracted frown, evidently deep in thought.

After regarding him in silence for a few more minutes, Kid addressed his friend. "You're awful quiet. You're not thinking up any more wild notions for how we're gonna handle Pakenham, are you? 'Cos the plan we got is risky enough."

"Mhm?" Heyes looked up, roused from his reverie. "What'd you say?"

Kid let out a long breath. "I was just hoping you weren't turning over any new ideas in that brain of yours. I figure I've already got my work cut out, acting ornery enough to put a scare into Pakenham that'll make him back down without giving us any trouble."

"Oh, it'll be fine, Kid. Don't worry. I've got every faith in you." Heyes smiled at him. "You'll see, it'll all come natural to you once we get sat around that poker table."

"Uh huh." Kid had heard his partner's optimistic predictions too many times to be as reassured as Heyes wanted him to be. "I sure hope so." He waited a moment, then continued, "Anyways – if that wasn't what you were thinking on, how come you been so quiet for the past couple miles? I haven't heard a word out of you since we left the Reeds' place."

Heyes gave his friend a sidelong grin. "Never heard you complain about me not talking before."

"Yeah, well… Right now I could use a little distraction."

Heyes nodded. "I was just thinking; it's kinda strange the way things turn out."

"Meaning this situation we're about to get ourselves into? Because I'd sure agree with you there."

"No…" Heyes shook his head. "I meant, more kind of general-like. You and me. The Reeds. The way folks' lives go." He looked at Kid. "You recall that conversation we had one night a while back, in that mosquito-ridden swamp where we were rounding up those cattle?"

"You're gonna have to remind me," answered Kid.

"You remember: I said I was wondering if we'd ever make the amnesty, without blowing it somehow."

"Oh yeah. I do recall you talking on about something of the sort… While I was trying to get some shut-eye."

"And I said even if we got the amnesty, I didn't know what I'd do after being an outlaw for so long. Because we've spent so long on the wrong side of the law, who knows if we'd ever manage to settle down to something normal. Just, workaday stuff, y'know. Getting by the way law-abiding folks do."

"Didn't you have some plan for running a casino?" Kid wondered where this conversation was going. "Anyways… Time enough to worry about that kind of thing when we've got the amnesty. Till we have got it, I ain't making too many plans." _Not when the damn Governor of Wyoming can kick 'em all to hell on a whim,_ he thought sourly.

"Well, sure: you said it right, Kid. We made a deal to go straight, but any time some bounty hunter or sheriff could blow that sky-high by putting the pinch on us and taking us in. So here we are: pretty much living from day to day, taking what comes… Because what's the point in making any plans for the future if we don't know what it's gonna look like?"

Kid shifted uneasily in his saddle. "I have to tell you, Heyes: that ain't the most cheering thought you've ever shared with me."

"But that's just it, Kid. In a way, it's how we've lived our lives pretty much from the get-go. As far back as I can remember, nearabouts. Since we were kids…" A frown of memory drew Heyes' brows together; he paused, then continued after a moment. "Well… Since we lit out from Valparaiso, I don't think there was one single day when I knew exactly what might be coming down the track next. So after a while, I quit trying to plan ahead. Just took things as they come, pretty much. Didn't seem any point in doing things any other way."

Kid thought about all the bank and train jobs they had pulled together with the Devil's Hole Gang: the elaborate schemes that Heyes dreamed up, the painstaking planning weeks or months beforehand. He shook his head. "That don't make sense. I've known you take two months working out every last detail on some train hold-up, figuring out exactly how we were going to pull it off."

"That's not what I mean, Kid. That wasn't planning ahead, not really. That was just… working out how to beat a problem. Like solving a puzzle." He shrugged. "You know me. I like having something to turn over in my head. Keep lookin' at it till I figure out how to make it come right."

_Yeah. And the times you can't get things to come right, you just about drive yourself crazy worrying at it. And me too, half the time._ Kid kept his thoughts to himself. "So what's your point?"

"All the time I've had this notion that the way we lived, not thinking too far ahead, just living day to day… Well… Most folks don't live that way. They make plans. They settle down, do honest work, raise families. While we were risking our necks every time we rode out on some bank job, just as likely to ride back to Devil's Hole with a few hundred dollars to split between ten men. And now we're going straight, not a whole lot's changed. We're still looking over our shoulders."

"Heyes, you're not telling me anything I don't already know. And like I said a minute ago… This ain't a conversation that's lifting my spirits any."

"What I'm saying is, all this time there was always some part of me that kind of felt bad about living the way we did. Hell, even when we made good money from robbing a train or a bank, seemed like we'd always just blue it in a few months and be back where we started. We didn't have nothing to show for it. Law-abiding folks, on the other hand – they had some kind of stake, a future to look forward to. Even if they did have to work themselves pretty hard for it.

"But then I see the Reeds, and it gets me to thinking. Here's some law-abiding folks, worked hard all their lives. Hell, Ned Reed worked himself into the ground. Yet all it took was a few bad years and a sharp dealer like Pakenham to get ahold of them, and they're close to losing everything they worked for. Not much of a reward for righteous living."

Kid shrugged. "Well, don't you remember what Preacher used to say, if anyone ever asked him how he squared being a holy man with robbing banks? 'The Lord helps those who helps themselves… So I'm just doing the Lord's work.' "

"Yeah." Heyes smiled. "Maybe he was right. From what I've seen, the righteous don't seem fare too well on this earth." He was silent for a few moments, before continuing: "Being on the wrong side of the law for so long, doing the things we did… Well, could be it was just the best way to get through what we got stuck with."

Kid considered this for a while. "You figure we'd have done things different, if we'd started out with more of an even chance?"

"Guess we'll never know." Heyes gazed thoughtfully at the road ahead. "One thing is, if I'd been in Ned Reed's shoes… Fought in the war, raising a young family, flat busted and looking to lose my farm… I sure don't know what I'd have done."

"Me neither." Kid also gazed broodingly ahead. "But I do know what I'd like to do to Thomas Pakenham in the here and now."

"Hold onto that thought." Heyes let one corner of his mouth lift up in a wry smile.

-oooOOOooo-

The two outlaws made good time on the road, arriving in Lawton just after noon. Heyes led the way down the main street, pausing only to seek directions to the Clearwater Hotel from a passer-by. The two men put their horses into livery and paid for a room at the hotel, depositing their gear before heading out again onto the street. Kid followed his partner as he set off along the roadway, casting his eye along the storefronts and buildings of the town.

"You plan on telling me where we're headed?"

"To a friendly saloon with some friendly poker players. And a sociable bar tender named Ben Yates."

"You're fixing on us playing some poker today? Thought you'd want to keep the notion that you're some kind of a fancy player under wraps."

"Oh, I don't plan on playing fancy today. That can wait till tomorrow evening. No: we're just gonna drink a few beers, play a few easy hands of cards, chat a little with good ol' Ben, and make sure we bag ourselves two spots at that game of Pakenham's tomorrow evening. Oh – and you're going to start earning yourself that reputation as one mean customer, too."

Kid groaned. "Now? I gotta start play acting right now? I ain't even had lunch yet."

"An empty stomach'll help you get into character." Heyes smiled broadly.

"Heyes, I swear you're enjoyin' every minute of this."

"Okay, here we are now. Don't forget: you're as cranky as a mad dog that's had its tail stepped on."

They stepped into the shady interior of the saloon. Heyes led the way to the bar, where Ben Yates was polishing up a beer glass. He set it down as they approached, and Heyes hailed him with a cheery grin. "Well, howdy there, Ben. Remember me? Joshua Smith… I came in here a few days back, had a coupla beers; we talked some."

Yates looked to be searching his memory; then recognition dawned. He gave Heyes a barman's professional smile. "Why, sure. Howdy, Mr Smith."

"This here's my friend, Thaddeus Jones." Heyes patted Kid on the shoulder. "We work together. Leastways, when there's work to be had!" He chuckled. "Thaddeus, this is Ben Yates. You recall, I told you about meeting him when I come into town looking for work."

Kid grunted, letting his gaze take in Yates without overmuch show of friendliness. He was happy to let Heyes do most of the talking, to establish the fiction of himself being the taciturn and unfriendly type. As long as Heyes remembered to order them both a beer.

Heyes didn't disappoint. "Ben, you want to set up a couple of beers for me and my friend here?" He tossed some money onto the bar. "Keep the change."

"Sure, Mr Smith."

"Ah, call me Joshua. No need to be formal between friends, am I right?" Heyes kept the easy charm turned up high. "After the two of us were shooting the breeze the other day, I feel like you're pretty much an old acquaintance of mine."

Yates put two beers on the bar. Heyes picked his up and took an appreciative sip: after eyeing his morosely, Kid did the same. Heyes let out a sigh of satisfaction, then eyed his friend. Kid raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a suitably dismissive fashion, then deliberately turned his back and leaned against the bar, holding his drink while he surveyed the saloon. Behind him, he heard Heyes say jovially, "Don't mind my friend Thaddeus here. He's had a hard ride to get here. It'll take him a while to relax."

Kid tuned the conversation out, recognising the early stages of Heyes setting up a mark. He'd long ago realised that his friend got something of a kick out of the elaborate manoeuvring required to sucker in someone to whatever job they were trying to pull. Kid had never enjoyed the intricate workings of cons himself, although he'd always appreciated the skill it took to pull one off. He took another sip of his beer, and thought of the egg-balancing trick that Heyes sometimes pulled to turn them a fast buck, at times when they were down to their last dime.

_Some things never change. The first time he pulled that off we'd been out of Valparaiso just over four months, and we hadn't eaten a thing in three days. He walked right into a general store in front of a bunch of growed men, bet 'em all he could do it, and walked out with nearly three dollars in nickels and dimes. We spent half of it right off on two plates of steak and potatoes and nearly got sick, 'cause it was the first square meal we'd had in weeks. And when I asked him how he'd figured out how to do it, all he said was, "I just thought it might work."_

The memory nearly brought a smile onto Kid's face: remembering just in time that he had a morose image to preserve, he raised his glass and disguised the smile by taking another drink.

Heyes was also enjoying his beer, letting an amiable expression remain on his face as he chatted easily with the barman. "Ahh… That tastes mighty good on a warm day. Surprised you don't have more folks in here enjoying a long cool drink, weather we've been having."

"Oh, it'll busy up some, later on," answered Yates, polishing dry another glass. "Most fellers generally pitch up just after supper time, during the week. But there's always a few around during the day, too. Either them who ain't working, or them as don't have to."

"Or those who are looking for work, like me and my friend here," said Heyes.

"Don't see too many coming into town on the lookout for work at the moment, 'less they come from round here," responded Yates. "Nobody's doing much hiring right now, as I hear it. 'Course, you could still ask around. Could be something'll come up."

"Well, that's just what we're hoping." Heyes nodded. "And in the meantime… I guess we'll just enjoy a nice cool beer, and maybe play a few hands of poker while we're waiting." He picked up his drink and seemed to be about to move away from the bar; then checked himself, as if he'd remembered something. "Now that reminds me… Didn't you say, there was a big poker game happened here regular, on Friday nights? Run by that local businessman, the owner of this saloon? You did tell me his name, but I just can't recall it to mind."

"Mr Pakenham," said Yates. "Sure: he'll be running his usual poker game tomorrow night. You still thinking you might want to put a stake down for a place at the table?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that. Two places at the table, to be exact: one for me, and one for my friend Thaddeus here."

"Cost you fifty dollars apiece for the buy-in." Yates regarded him narrowly. "Cash, that is."

"No problem." Heyes kept the affable smile on his face while he took out his wallet; opened it wide to extract the sum in ten-dollar bills, letting Ben see the other notes still nestled inside. He let his wallet stay open just a little longer than necessary, feeling the barman's gaze travel over the cash in there. _That's right, Ben Yates. You get a good long look at how much money I'm toting around… And make sure you tell your boss what a nice big pile of money looks to be coming his way at the poker table._

Heyes folded his wallet shut and slid it back into his jacket, then tossed the hundred dollars onto the bar. "There it is, Ben. You make sure me and Thaddeus get seats in that game tomorrow night."

"Sure, Mr Smith... Joshua." Yates picked the notes up off the scarred wooden bar, checking each one with a barman's thoroughness before tucking them safely away. "I'll let Mr Pakenham know you'll be sitting in. Game starts out back here at eight o'clock. Best to be on time: Mr Pakenham don't like latecomers."

"Oh, we'll make sure we're a little early, just in case." Heyes smiled.

Their places secured in the big game the following night, Heyes and Kid downed their beers and took a walk down the street to find some food. Once they'd eaten, Heyes insisted on their returning to the saloon, where they found places in a small-stakes poker game with four local men. Kid concentrated at maintaining his grim-faced reserve, although eating a meal had gone a long way towards putting him into a better mood. He took his lead from Heyes where the poker was concerned: playing it close for small stakes, nothing risky or flashy.

Before too long, Kid recognised that what his partner was doing wasn't so much about winning money as gathering information. Heyes kept a relaxed flow of small talk going with the four Lawton men sitting around the table, and before an hour was out he had them talking about their lives, work and interests as if they were old friends. One man was prompted to describe the details of how he'd set up his lumberyard business; a second encouraged to reminisce about his long-past days as a bronc buster. A well-to-do farmer found Heyes a sympathetic ear as he bemoaned poor weather and low prices; while the fourth had him chuckling at his risqué tales of youthful adventures prospecting for gold. Once again, Heyes was setting up his marks… And so subtly, they had no idea that the affable young man sitting at their poker table was only interested in their lives purely as a means of putting them at their ease.

The farmer laid down his hand, with a triumphant crow in his voice. "Three tens!" He grinned across the table. "If any of you can beat that, I'll be damned!"

"Well…" Heyes gave a self-deprecating shake of his head as he tossed his own cards away, face down, Kid noticed. "You've done it again, Mr Beauford." As he spoke Heyes let his gaze slip ever-so-briefly up to Kid, who cast his own hand away. Not that he had had anything that would have beaten three of a kind. Unlike Heyes, who he suspected had been forced to discard his cards face down to conceal a winning hand.

As Beauford scooped the small pot of winnings towards him across the table, Heyes let out a quiet chuckle. "Sure hope we get better run of luck tomorrow evening, Thaddeus. Otherwise Mr Pakenham's going to wonder what kind of greenhorns have showed up at his poker table."

Conforming to character, Kid merely let out a grunt, giving a careless shrug. But the other men around the table were less restrained. The lumberyard owner, a solid grizzled man in his mid-forties named Gardner, looked up at Heyes with a frown. "You and your friend here are planning on joining Pakenham's poker game?"

"Sure we are," answered Heyes with a smile. "Put down our money already to buy ourselves in, as a matter of fact."

Gardner pursed his lips. "Then all I'd say is, you'd best make up your minds not to see your money again."

The other three Lawton men shot him looks that ranged from wary to outright disapproving. Gardner met their looks defiantly. "What? Last I heard, it ain't against the law to tell it how it is." He turned to face Heyes and Kid. "You seem like good enough fellers. And I'm telling you: you don't want to get into no poker game with Thomas Pakenham, 'less you got a hundred dollars you can afford to throw away."

"Could be we'll win a little something, instead." Heyes gestured with open-handed ease.

"If that happens you better be ready to ride out of here in a big hurry." Gardner spoke ominously. Beside him Beauford leaned forwards, shielding him from view of Ben Yates who was standing at the bar. "Don't talk so loud. You want the whole town to hear you?"

"Ain't this a free country?" But at another look from Beauford, Gardner grew more cautious: with a quick glance towards Yates at the bar, he dropped his voice. "All right. I ain't saying nothing. But you boys won't be winning anything from Pakenham, if I'm any judge."

"So what you're saying is, he's a pretty good poker player." Heyes shrugged. "I figured he must be something like that, if he runs a big game with a fifty dollar buy-in every week. But hell, a man's luck'll run out eventually. No-one gets dealt a good hand every time… And me and Thaddeus may just be there when Mr Pakenham's luck changes."

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," said Gardner darkly. This time the looks he got from his compatriots were openly warning; Gardner subsided under their admonishing stares. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Well… Least said, soonest mended. I wish you boys good fortune."

"Thank you." Heyes nodded, with a friendly smile. "We appreciate it."


	20. Chapter 20

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty**

The rest of the poker game continued without incident. Sometime mid-evening Gardner excused himself, pleading an early start on the morrow, and gathered up his stake from the table. Heyes and Kid played on for a short while longer, until Heyes leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Gentlemen, I believe I need to take a walk in the cool evening air, clear my head a little. But it's been a pleasure playing with you." His eyes found Kid, signalled, _Outside._

Once out in the street, Heyes set off with a purposeful stride, heading down the street. Kid fell into step beside him. "Where are we headed now?"

"Lumberyard."

"Why?"

"Because I think that's where Gardner will be. He strikes me as being the kind of man that works late hours, to get through his paperwork in the quiet after his employees have gone home. Didn't you hear him saying how the hardest part of running a business was all the figuring a man had to do?"

"Uh huh." Kid regarded the road ahead. "You think he's gonna give us the lowdown on Pakenham? He clammed up pretty quick back there in the saloon."

"I think Gardner'll feel easier about talking when there's less of an audience."

They reached the lumberyard at the edge of town after a few minutes' walking. Heyes stopped fifty yards away, and pointed at a lit window in the side of a lean-to at the yard gate. Inside Gardner was just visible in a pool of lamplight, sitting at a desk with his back to the window. "There you go. I thought he'd still be at it." Heyes spoke softly.

Kid studied the man at work in his office. "We gonna go in and talk with him?"

"No… That'd be too obvious. We'll just wait out here till he finishes up, and heads out towards home." Heyes eased back into the shadows around the corner of nearby building. "Then we'll bump into him, kind of accidental-like. Stroll along the street and have a little conversation about our friend Pakenham."

As it turned out, Gardner was no great shakes in the book-keeping department: Kid and Heyes were waiting almost an hour before the lamplight in the window faded to black. Kid, who was taking his turn watching the office whilst Heyes leaned meditatively back against the building wall, spoke in a low murmur. "Gardner's making a move."

Heyes stepped away from the wall and joined his partner at the corner, cautiously looking out into the street. As both men watched, they saw a door in the lumberyard office building open and Gardner step out: he closed the door behind himself, and locked it.

"Just start walking," murmured Heyes, before stepping out into the street. Kid followed his friend out into the open, as Heyes struck out on a trajectory that would intersect their path with that of Gardner as he left his business premises. As they drew close Heyes said loudly, as if continuing a conversation with his friend, "I reckon if we turn left at the next corner that'll take us back towards the hotel, Thaddeus…"

Taking his cue and maintaining his reputation of cussedness, Kid responded in a suitably surly fashion. "That's what you said ten minutes ago."

"Well, maybe this time I'll be right - " Heyes broke off as they met Gardner on the side of the roadway. "Well, Mr Gardner! Good evening."

Gardner looked a little surprised to see the two men, but replied promptly enough. "Good evening – Mr Smith, Mr Jones."

"A bit of luck, us running into you here," said Heyes cheerfully. "My friend and I have been walking the wrong way I reckon, trying to find our way back to our lodgings. Would you be able to put us in the right direction?"

"Sure," answered Gardner. "Where are you fellers staying at?"

"The Clearwater Hotel."

"Why, you must have walked right past it to get here," said Gardner.

"Wouldn't surprise me if we did," responded Heyes, with a sidelong look at Kid. "We were so busy talking, damned if we didn't forget to look about us as we walked along. Then we realised after a while that we just didn't know where in the town we'd walked through. I kept saying to Thaddeus that any minute now we'd turn a corner and recognise the street we were walking along – but it just didn't seem to work out that way!"

"I told you we should've just turned round and headed back the way we come," muttered Kid shortly, keeping up the fiction of his own mean-spirited character.

Beside him, Heyes said, "Well, don't worry, Thaddeus – I'm sure Mr Gardner here'll be able to guide us back to where we need to be. Isn't that right?" He gave the lumberyard owner a winning smile.

Gardner seemed happy to oblige. "Why, sure Mr Smith. I'm walking that in that direction on my way back home, anyhow. It'd be no trouble to show you and your friend to the hotel."

The three men fell into step, Heyes keeping an inconsequential flow of small talk going with Gardner about lumber and the challenges of running a business. It took only a short time for them to reach the Clearwater Hotel, where they came to a halt outside. Gardner gestured at the building. "Here you are."

"Thank you kindly, Mr Gardner. We're obliged to you."

"No trouble – like I said, I was walking past anyhow."

"Nonetheless, we're grateful for your help. Who knows how long we'd have been wandering around Lawton, if we hadn't come across you!" Heyes gestured at the hotel. "In fact, we couldn't let you go on your way without showing our gratitude. We've a bottle of whiskey in our room – I insist that you join us for a nightcap, before you head for home."

Gardner perked up visibly at the mention of whiskey. "Well… I really ought to be heading back… My wife will wonder what's keeping me."

"You can blame it on us," suggested Heyes. "I'm sure your wife won't mind if you tell her you were just being a Good Samaritan, shepherding two lost sheep back to where they ought to be."

"Well, if you put it like that…" Gardner's slight resistance evaporated. "Just the one drink wouldn't do any harm, I suppose."

-oooOOOooo-

Three large whiskeys later, up in Heyes and Kid's hotel room, Gardner had ceased to worry about his wife. In fact, he seemed to have ceased to worry about most things: as Heyes poured him his fourth whiskey, his tongue had loosened along with his demeanour. A fact that Heyes - still sober as a result of feigning to match drinks with Gardner whilst actually keeping the same glassful on the go – took full advantage of.

After chuckling with laughter at one of Gardner's rambling stories, Heyes made his move. "Y'know, Mr Gardner, I reckon you're a right decent kind of feller. I was saying so to Thaddeus, only a little earlier this evening. 'That Mr Gardner, he's a straight-talking man,' I said. 'Why, he tells it like it is.' That's a rare and fine quality in a man, I'm telling you, yes sir."

Gardner made a dismissive gesture, taking another swallow of whiskey. Heyes continued, "We could tell you were trying to warn us about playing poker with Pakenham tomorrow night, and even when those other men tried to hush you up, you kept right on speaking the truth. I admire you for that."

"Ah…" Gardner shook his head. "They knew it just as much as me. They just didn't have the guts to speak up."

"That's what I figured," responded Heyes, turning to wink at Kid. "Didn't I say that, Thaddeus?"

"Yeah. That's just what you said," agreed Kid.

"That Pakenham… thinks he's got this whole damn town in his pocket," declared Gardner, somewhat bullishly. "Thinks he can buy any man in Lawton. Well, he ain't bought me. And I ain't scared of him. No, sir."

"I'll drink to that," said Heyes, picking up the bottle and topping up Gardner's glass, whilst pretending to take a gulp from his own. "From what you were saying earlier on, sounds like he thinks he can win every poker game he plays, too."

"Oh, he wins 'em all right." Gardner shook his head. "But you know how he makes sure of that? He has this feller right there at all those poker nights of his, acts as dealer for the game. Named Hampton, George Hampton: used to work as a dealer in some fancy casino down in Abilene. I never sat in on one of those games myself, but the word is, Hampton is mighty handy with dealing those cards. Especially when it comes to look like Pakenham might be hitting a losing streak. All of a sudden his luck changes, and other folks start losing."

"Now, you're not saying this guy Hampton is doing something crooked, are you?" queried Heyes. "Surely one of the other players would spot it if the dealer was stacking the deck."

"All I'm saying is, I knew a local feller who sat in once on one of Pakenham's poker games. He told how Pakenham was losing money hand over fist, to this young slicker from out of town. All of sudden – Pakenham starts laying down winning hands, one after the other. This local man said it was like this youngster's luck just up and vanished, while Pakenham drew all the best cards in the deck. This feller told me he watched Hampton real close, because there just had to be something the dealer was pulling - but he never saw how he did it. And Pakenham won the game, cleaned that youngster out of every cent."

Kid saw a frown pull his partner's brows together. But all Heyes said aloud was, "I'm surprised the youngster didn't raise a ruckus about losing, if it looked like Pakenham was playing crooked."

"Oh, he did." Gardner drained his glass of whiskey. "Called Pakenham every name under the sun, this local feller said. Started raising Cain about how there was no way any man could be that lucky, and get so many winning hands one after the other." He held his glass out for Heyes to fill it. "Guess he should've kept his mouth shut, because two days later someone found him dead out on the Garnerville road. Looked like he'd fallen off his horse, gotten his foot hung up in the stirrup and been dragged to death. Only it seemed mighty coincidental, him winding up dead like that. But that's the way things go round here."

Heyes regarded Gardner steadily. "You're saying Pakenham had something to do with that?"

Gardner knocked back his whiskey and shook his head. "All I'm saying is, don't nothing happen in this town that Pakenham doesn't know about. Or have something to do with. And if you boys plan on playing poker with him tomorrow night, you'd best make up your minds to losing. Because I've yet to meet a man that bested Pakenham at his poker table."

-oooOOOooo-

The steady supply of whiskey eventually took its toll on Gardner, his talkativeness being succeeded by a lassitude that signalled Heyes and Kid to assist him to his feet and escort him out of the room and down the stairs, bidding him farewell on the street. They pointed him more or less in the right direction and waited to watch him walk unsteadily away; then retreated back to their hotel room.

Kid shut the door behind them, walking to the table and picking up the whiskey bottle to note its half-empty state with a wry look. Then he turned to Heyes, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with a frown of thought. "So we're going into a poker game tomorrow with a guy who hates losing. In fact, he hates losing so much he employs a professional dealer to make sure that he _can't_ lose. And if anyone makes a noise about it, they end up having an accident. The kind of accident that leaves 'em dead." He paused for a moment for emphasis, before adding, "You recall what I said, the other day? About this being a bad idea?"

Heyes let out a sigh, his eyes shutting for moment. The frown deepened. "Hush up a minute, Kid. I'm trying to think."

"_Now_ you're trying to think?" At his partner's eyes opening to flash him a quick annoyed look, Kid held up both hands. "All right!" He sat down heavily in the chair by the window. After a moment, as an afterthought, he poured himself a whiskey from the diminished bottle and sat nursing it, regarding his partner broodingly.

Some considerable time had passed before Heyes' brows unknitted themselves. He sat up straight, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. Then his eyes found his friend: Kid roused himself, recognising the signs of yet another phase of a Hannibal Heyes plan unfolding.

"I got it, Kid." Heyes stood up and began to pace slowly around the room. "Hampton's the problem, right? Number one, he'll be dealing Pakenham the cards he needs to win. Number two, if he's that good at sleight of hand, he'll spot anything I might need to do to beat Pakenham. So what we've got to do is take Hampton out of the equation."

"And how are you planning on doing that?" asked Kid levelly.

"I think I've got an idea." Heyes stopped pacing. "First off, we got to go and break into the doctor's office."

Kid regarded him dubiously. "What do we want to do that for?"

"Because there's something there that we'll need." At Kid's frown, Heyes gave him an encouraging smile. "It'll be easy: I remember where the doc's place is, from when I bought the quinine for Asa. It's only a short way from here."

Kid opened his mouth to argue, then just gave up. "Okay. So we'll go and break into the doc's office, and take whatever it is you think we need. And then what?"

"And then we'll just have to see how the game goes, tomorrow evening," answered Heyes. "But if Hampton starts dealing Pakenham winning hands… We'll be ready for him."

-oooOOOooo-

An hour later, a little after two in the morning, Kid found himself standing guard in a dark side street while Heyes worked at the window of the doctor's office. The town was quiet and they'd met no-one on their journey from the hotel to here, but Kid still found it hard to relax. _I'm pretty sure that bustin' open the doc's office and taking whatever it is Heyes is after, wouldn't look too good if someone catches us out here. And then we're in bigger trouble than just losing a hundred dollars to Pakenham at the poker table._

There was a slight creak as Heyes managed to free the window catch, and ease the bottom sash window upwards. Kid glanced around to see his friend disappear inside the dark building, then returned his gaze to the side street. An age seemed to pass: Kid tried to forget about the fact that they were breaking into and burgling a building; that it was the middle of the damn night; that this whole plan was looking increasingly likely to land both of them jail at best, or run out of town by whoever Pakenham got to do his dirty work.

A slight sound made him look around: Heyes was climbing out of the window. He stepped onto the street, then turned and carefully eased the sash window down again. It creaked a lot louder on the way down, a juddering shriek of dry wood that made both men freeze and listen tensely to the night.

Nothing stirred. Heyes took a breath and drew the window the last couple of inches downwards, shutting it firmly. Then he stepped away, whispering, "Let's go," and headed down the street.

The desk clerk at the Clearwater Hotel was fast asleep in his chair, and they regained the privacy of their room without incident. Once the door was locked Kid sat heavily down on his bed, then looked up at where Heyes stood lighting the lamp. "Now you can tell me what exactly we had to go stealing from there, that was so important."

Heyes drew a small bottle out of his jacket, and set it on the table next to the lamp. "A little something we might need to add to George Hampton's drink tomorrow night, when he's not looking. Just to… indispose him a little, if needs be."

"We're gonna _poison_ him?" Kid was taken aback. "That ain't right, Heyes – supposing we get the dose wrong and we up and kill the man?"

"It's not poison." Heyes nodded at the bottle. "Take a look."

Kid picked up the small brown glass bottle, and studied the label. "Ip – ipec – ac?" He frowned. "What in thunder's that?"

"Ipecac." Heyes carefully took the bottle from his friend's fingers. "A few drops of that, and Hampton'll be throwing up his guts for a couple hours. It won't harm him none – it'll just make him feel like he wishes he was dead. A day later and he'll be right as rain." He set the bottle back down on the table: as he did so, his hand shook. Kid looked at it, then up at his friend. Heyes shivered, and his eyes shut for a moment.

Kid felt a knot of worry tie itself in his guts. "You okay?"

Heyes opened his eyes. "I'm fine." Then another shiver shook him where he stood.

"Jesus…" Kid stood up. "Is that the chills and fever again?"

"It'll pass." Heyes eased himself to sit down on the edge of the bed. Kid saw the fatigue in his friend's face, the skin suddenly beaded with sweat. "Hell… You want some water?"

"Yeah." Heyes spoke with a tensed jaw, trying not to let his teeth chatter. "Better fetch me… some quinine out of my bag, too."

"You sure that's okay, to take more?" queried Kid, doing as he'd been asked.

"It's not more. I forgot to take it earlier," Heyes replied.

"Goddamn it, Heyes - " Kid rounded on his partner, fists clenching with frustration. "You want to wind up sick again?"

"Nope. But I had a bunch of other stuff on my mind. Clean forgot." Heyes spoke simply, looking up at his friend.

After a moment, Kid turned back to the water. He poured a glass full and got the quinine; stepped back to the bed and handed both to Heyes: watched as his partner tipped the bitter powder onto his tongue and swallowed it down with water. "You better lie down, try to get some sleep."

"Took the words right out of my mouth, Kid." Heyes began pulling off his boots, shedding his jacket, moving slowly and unsteadily as the shivering gripped him again. Kid did the same, keeping an eye on his friend as he stripped to henley and long johns and got into bed. Even when Heyes was lying under the covers, he still shivered. Kid stood next to his bed, looking down at him. "Take my blanket. You look like you need it."

"Then what're you gonna sleep under?" asked Heyes, as Kid pulled the blanket off his own bed and laid it over his sick partner. Kid nodded at his clothes lying on the chair next to his own bed. "I'll use my coat. Ain't cold tonight, anyhow. I'll manage."

Heyes nodded in acquiescence. He shrugged the blankets up around his shoulders, his eyes closing as another bout of shivering gripped him again. Kid reached to extinguish the lamp, but paused to regard his friend. Heyes had his eyes shut: his face was almost as pale as the pillow he was lying on. As if feeling Kid's gaze, his eyes flickered open. He observed Kid's expression, then tried to smile. "Don't worry. I'll be feeling okay come morning."

"You better be." Kid shook his head. "Otherwise our plan's shot to hell." He held Heyes' gaze with a grim-faced one of his own. Heyes looked somewhat taken aback by his friend's lack of sympathy… until Kid's face changed into a grin. As Heyes met this with a relieved smile of his own, Kid added, "Relax. I'm just practicing being mean and ornery, for tomorrow." He extinguished the lamp. "But I'm telling you, Heyes: you go missing another dose of quinine, and I won't be play-acting. I swear I'll kick your butt to New Mexico and back, if you forget to take it again."

"Point taken." In the darkness, Heyes sounded like he was still smiling. Kid smiled too, as he pulled his coat up around his shoulders and closed his eyes to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty One**

Kid woke late, from a heavy sleep that was slow to lift from him. For several minutes he lay still on his back, gazing up at the ceiling above him, letting the events of the night before gradually settle in his mind.

Finally the memory of Heyes standing shivering in the centre of the room resurfaced. Kid frowned and turned his head to look across to where his partner lay in his own bed. Heyes was curled on his side, eyes shut, still fast asleep. At some point in the night the chills had obviously been replaced by a feverish sweat: the extra blanket that Kid had laid over his friend lay on the floor beside the bed, while the rest of the covers were tangled over Heyes as if he had been fighting with them. His bare feet stuck out at the foot of the bed.

Kid sighed, then swung his own feet out of bed and onto the floor. He picked up his own blanket and tossed it onto his bed, then stood and walked across the room to the window. Yawning, he pushed the curtain open a little, blinking out at the street. Sunny daylight met his gaze: below in the street, Lawton folk were going about their business.

A sound behind him made Kid turn. Heyes was stirring in bed; after a second or two, his eyes blinked open and he stared across the room. Then he turned his head towards the window and saw his friend. Kid regarded him. "Mornin'."

"Mhm." Heyes looked only half-awake: lifting a hand he rubbed it over his face, then blinked again. "Morning."

"How you feeling?"

Heyes considered the question, sitting up in bed to lean back against the wall. "All right…" He looked around the room, as if reacquainting himself with his surroundings.

"You up to going and getting some breakfast?"

A grin broke over Heyes' features. "I had a feeling you were gonna say something like that." He swung his legs out of bed. "I can always rely on you to have an appetite."

"Hey, I was up half the night, remember? Makes a man hungry." Kid crossed the room to his clothes and began getting dressed. "Anyways, a square meal probably wouldn't do you any harm either, after last night. You sure you're feeling okay?"

Heyes shrugged, picking up his own clothes. "Sure. I told you it'd pass."

"Uh huh." Kid paused in pulling on his shirt, to reach to Heyes' bag and take out the quinine. He tossed it across to his partner. "Let's see you take that right now, before you go to forgetting it again."

Heyes eyed his medicine unenthusiastically. "Before breakfast?"

"Yeah." Kid fixed his partner with a steady look. After a moment, Heyes capitulated. Picking up the little bottle of quinine powder he measured out a dose and took it, swallowing two glassfuls of water afterwards in an effort to rid himself of the taste.

Kid regarded the faces his friend was pulling with amusement. "That stuff really taste as bad as you make out?"

"Oh, yeah." Heyes picked his jacket up, his mouth still fixed in a wry expression.

"Well, some breakfast'll take your mind off it."

"You figure?" Heyes gave a last grimace, then followed his friend out of the room.

-oooOOOooo-

They headed out of the hotel and down the street, Kid in the lead as his growling stomach guided them on a quest for food. They'd only been walking a little way when Heyes touched him on the arm. "I got a thought. I know where we should go eat breakfast."

"Where?"

"The restaurant I ate in a few days ago, when I came into town with Mrs Reed." Heyes guided his partner across the street. "It's not far from here."

"Was the food that good?"

"It's not the food, Kid. It's the location." Heyes smiled at him. "It's right across from Pakenham's office. With any luck, we might get a look at the man himself."

As they were the only two customers in the small restaurant, both men were soon working their way through plates of food, washing it down with good strong coffee. After he'd taken the edge off his appetite, Kid leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze out onto the street. There was not much in the way of traffic: the odd passer-by, a horse and cart. He studied the office building a few hundred yards away that Heyes had pointed out to him. Its door was closed; its window had a blind half-lowered against the morning sun.

Heyes' voice broke into his scrutiny. "Well, looks like Pakenham's not in any hurry to start doing business today."

"Maybe he's there already."

"Not likely. Rich men don't have to get up early in the morning. They pay someone else to do it."

Kid turned away from the window, looking across the table to his friend. Since eating breakfast Heyes had got some colour back into his face, but he still looked tired after the exertions of the night before. "What're we gonna do if we see him, anyway? Go up and introduce ourselves?"

"No." Heyes gave a small smile. "Just want to get a look at our man, that's all."

"I figure we'll be looking at him tonight over a poker table for a few hours. That not enough for you?"

"I just want to see him beforehand." Heyes gazed out onto the street, a slight frown pulling his brows down. "The more I can find out about him before the game, the better."

Kid regarded him steadily. He thought of how Heyes had worked the men round the card table yesterday, then stalked Gardner and plied him with whiskey for information. And how, when the problem of Pakenham's dealer had surfaced, Heyes had taken only a short while to produce a solution. A solution that sounded workable, but that had surprised Kid a little in its ruthlessness. Even if the stuff they were planning to put in Hampton's drink wasn't going to do the man any long term damage, it was still going to be far from pleasant. "You still think you can beat Pakenham?"

"I'll beat him." Heyes answered in a low voice, but Kid saw his jaw tense a little. As a man so good at reading other people's tells, Heyes could keep a close control over his own when he needed to. Except if you knew him as well as Kid did.

"Okay." Kid spoke equally quietly, as if to a horse he didn't want to startle. "That's the plan. But what're we gonna do if the plan doesn't work out?"

"It'll work out." Heyes was still keeping his eyes on the street, going for stubborn now. Another tell. One which Kid knew meant, _Don't ask me any more questions._ He held his peace for a few minutes, sipping his coffee and watching his friend.

Suddenly Heyes sat back. "There he blows."

Kid turned to the window, following the direction of his partner's gaze. On the far side of the street a dark-haired man was walking leisurely along, heading past the restaurant in the direction of the business office. He was dressed smartly, in an expensive-looking suit. As they watched, he met a couple passing in the opposite direction: paused to doff his hat and exchange greetings and an expansive smile. After a few moments of conversation the couple nodded friendly farewells and headed on their way: the man donned his hat and continued onwards.

"You figure that's him?"

"Fancy suit, politician's smile, making friendly with the good townsfolk… I reckon so." Heyes paused, then grunted with satisfaction when the man opened the door of the business office and stepped inside. "There."

"Okay. So now we know what Pakenham looks like." Kid leaned back in his chair again. "That help you any?"

"Sure." Heyes turned away from the window himself, and picked up his cup of coffee. "Next thing we need to know, is does that office have a back door." He looked up at Kid. "You'll need to take stroll over there this morning and take a look. But don't be obvious about it – make sure he doesn't see you."

"We ain't breaking into his office as well, are we?" queried Kid.

"No. Not if everything goes the way it should. But if we're going to get Pakenham to write off Mrs Reed's debt, I'm betting the paperwork will be somewhere over there in his office. Which means going over there with him to get it. And I'd just be happier if I knew the layout of the place… Make sure he can't spring any surprises on us."

Kid nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I'll take a walk over there after breakfast. What are you going to do, meantime?"

Heyes shrugged. "Work on things for tonight. Later on I'll head over to the saloon, talk a little with Ben Yates. See if I can find out any more about Hampton, or this poker game."

Kid nodded. "Okay. Sounds like that's about the most we can do, before this evening."

-oooOOOooo-

Breakfast over, Kid left his partner to go for a leisurely stroll in the direction of Pakenham's office. Well versed in the art of casing a building whilst appearing not to – a legacy from all the years of sizing up banks from every angle – Kid took his time to study the office and its access points. He worked his way round to the back of the street, and located the office's rear door: studied the buildings either side.

His reconnoitring over, Kid took a last stroll back along the main street, taking a good long look through the office's front window as he did so. The blind was still half-drawn against the sun, so all he could make out was a desk with a man – not Pakenham - sitting at it, his back towards the street. Kid pursed his lips and continued past, thinking over all he'd seen.

When he got back to the hotel room, Heyes was sitting at the table, which he'd pulled up near the window. Kid saw his partner was holding a deck of cards: a few cards were spread on the table. Heyes looked up as his friend entered. "How'd it look?"

"There's a back door. Lock didn't look like anything fancy. 'Course, could be it gets bolted on the inside. Two windows, no bars."

Heyes nodded, his hands continuing to move as he ran some strip shuffles with the deck of cards. "Is the back door overlooked?"

"Not by any houses. Reckon at night time we'd have the back way to ourselves, if needs be." Kid sat down on his bed. "Though I'm hoping we ain't gonna need to break in, 'cause if Pakenham gets riled at losing at poker I'd hate to think what he'd do to someone who broke into his office."

"Just a precaution, Kid." Heyes dealt four hands of cards onto the table: frowned at some infinitesimal error that only he could see, scooped up the cards and started over. "We don't want to take any chances with a man like Pakenham. This is his town, and it's his poker game, so I want to be sure we know as much as possible about what we're getting into."

Kid watched his partner deal the cards; pause; pick them up again. He realised that Heyes was actually _practicing_ his sleight of hand: something Kid hadn't seen him do in a long while. Usually, Heyes was confident in his own abilities. If anything, overconfident. But as he laid the cards down with a frown of concentration, Kid could see that the pressure of the upcoming poker game was getting to him.

The nagging doubts in his own mind started clamouring again. _What if he can't win the game? It all hangs on that. Whatever else we do: me acting the mean gunhand, dosing up this Hampton guy so he can't rig the game… It still all comes down to Heyes being able to beat Pakenham, either by playing better'n him, or by being better at stacking the deck. And if he has to stack the deck, being able to do it so no-one spots him at it._

Heyes picked up the hands he'd dealt, riffle shuffled the pack, then began dealing again. Kid spoke quietly. "You really think we can pull this off?"

Heyes paused; then finished dealing. His gaze switched to his partner. "You having second thoughts?"

"Not about why we're doing it." Kid met his friend's gaze squarely. "How about you?"

A corner of Heyes' mouth twitched up to make a wry smile. "Well… I guess it did occur to me, that if we don't pull it off things'll get pretty damn interesting, pretty damn quick." He held Kid's gaze. "So we better make sure that we pull it off." With the tips of his fingers, he turned each of the four hands he'd dealt face up on the table. Kid looked at the hands: full house, four eights, straight flush, royal flush.

Kid raised his eyes to his partner's face. Heyes still had that same wry smile on his face. Slowly Kid felt his own expression widening into an answering smile. "All right, Heyes. You keep right on practicing, 'f it means you can lay down the cards like that tonight."

Heyes gathered up the deck again. "What I want is to be able to lay 'em down like that without anybody noticing." A small frown crept back again onto his face. "Especially Pakenham."


	22. Chapter 22

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Two**

The day passed slowly. Kid, never comfortable holed up indoors for long, soon tired of watching his partner run through card moves. Swinging his legs up onto the bed, he laid his head back on his folded arms and let his eyes drift shut. Their various late activities of the night before had left him somewhat short of sleep and soon he sank into a pleasantly heavy doze, lulled by the soft sounds of Heyes dealing cards.

A hand on his arm brought him from slumber to startled alertness, his head jerking up as his right hand reached automatically for his gun. Another hand closed over his: his eyes opened to find Heyes looking down at him. " – Whuh?"

"Easy, Kid." Heyes gave him a quick smile. "I wouldn't have woken you, but I'm heading over to the saloon now. Didn't want you to wonder where I'd gone."

Kid relaxed back against the bed. "Uh huh." He rubbed a hand over his face. "What time is it?"

"Little after two o'clock." Heyes straightened up. "You'd probably have woken up sometime soon, anyhow. You never could sleep through a mealtime."

Kid elected to ignore that last comment. "How long you figure on staying at the saloon?"

"Couple of hours at the most." Heyes headed for the door of the room. "If I'm any longer than that… Well, maybe you could take a wander over there. But I don't plan on staying longer than I have to."

"All right." Kid sat up on the bed, letting out a yawn. "I'll go get some lunch. Maybe at that place we ate in this morning. That way I can scope out Pakenham's office a little more."

"Good thinking." With a nod of agreement, Heyes left his partner to his own devices.

-oooOOOooo-

The saloon was busier than the day before when Heyes entered it: as well as a couple of tables of men quietly talking and playing cards, there were a few more customers drinking at the bar. Heyes wended his way across the room, exchanging smiles of greeting at the few faces he recognised from the previous day, and found himself a space at the bar. When Ben Yates worked his way down to him, Heyes favoured him with a friendly grin. "Hey there, Ben! How's it going?"

"Fine… Mr Smith." Yates looked somewhat pleased with himself for remembering his customer's name.

"I'll have a beer. And it's Joshua, remember?" Heyes kept the wide smile on his face.

"Sure, Mis – Joshua. Coming right up."

Once the cold glass was in his hand, Heyes took a deep draught and sighed appreciatively. Leaning on the bar and glancing around the room, he remarked, "Looks like the place is getting busy."

"Yeah… It always picks up, come the end of the week." Yates nodded.

"There many fellers in here who'll be coming to the poker game tonight?"

"A couple." Yates nodded across the room, to a table in the far corner. "Jim Matheson, over yonder. And Frank Elwood, sitting next to him. They play with Mr Pakenham most Friday nights. Then there's two others, but they won't be in till just before the start of the game. One's another local man, Isaac Fischer: the other's from out of town, feller named Dumont. So there should be seven of you playing, all told."

Heyes nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "Sounds like a good number. I figure me and Thaddeus will head over here sometime after seven o'clock, be here in plenty of time for the start."

"That'd be dandy." Yates leaned on the bar. "There is one other thing you fellers need to know, about the game." He let his gaze turn down to where Heyes' revolver sat on his hip. "Mr Pakenham doesn't like anyone coming armed to his poker games. So you and your friend'll have to leave your guns back at your hotel."

Heyes let nothing in his expression betray his reaction, but inwardly he felt a strong misgiving. _Great. I don't need to think too hard to know how Kid's going to react to that happy piece of news._ Aloud he said, "That's fair enough. Keeps things friendly, if you know no-one in the room's packing iron."

"Sure." Yates looked a little relieved at how easily Heyes had taken his announcement. "There ain't ever been any trouble at Mr Pakenham's poker table, but better safe than sorry."

"Absolutely." Heyes nodded in solemn agreement, before burying his face in his glass of beer. _No guns. Let's hope that includes Pakenham as well._

After making small talk at the bar with Yates a little longer, Heyes decided it was time to get the lie of the land where the other two players who had been pointed out to him were concerned. He approached their table, producing a friendly smile when the two men looked up. "Afternoon. Thought I should introduce myself: my name's Joshua Smith. My friend Thaddeus Jones and I will be playing poker with Mr Pakenham here this evening, and I believe with you two gentlemen as well."

Matheson, a heavy-set man with grey hair and a large moustache, regarded Heyes, then gestured at the empty chair in front of him and his companion. "Pull up a chair, Mr Smith." He extended a hand across the table as Heyes sat down: Heyes shook it, then shook hands with Elwood.

"Thank you. My friend and I are from out of town, and we don't know a soul here in Lawton. I didn't want to interrupt you gentlemen if you were in the midst of something, but it seemed only mannerly to acquaint ourselves with each other."

"Surely." Matheson nodded with a sage expression. "I'm Jim Matheson. And this here's George Elwood." Elwood, a man of similar age to Matheson but thinner and dark haired, studied Heyes with an appraising gaze. "You say you and your friend are from out of town, Mr Smith. What brings you to Lawton?"

"Oh, we're just passing through. Been doing a little cattle business up in Garnerville; we're heading down to Fallbrook, thought we'd rest up a few days here in Lawton to break our journey."

"Cattle business?" Matheson asked. "You speculate in livestock? Didn't think there was much of a profit to be turned in that line of work. Even most of the ranchers round here only seem to make just about enough to live on, year to year."

"Well… We won't get rich doing it, that's for sure." Heyes allowed a self-deprecating smile to come onto his face. "But it pays enough for the time being." He looked at Matheson. "You sound like you're a man of business yourself, Mr Matheson. What line of work are you in?"

Matheson smiled. "Banking."

Heyes kept his own friendly smile on his face, while inwardly his heart missed a beat. "Ah… You're an investor?"

"I own the bank here in Lawton." Matheson spoke comfortably. "Been running it for close on twenty years, all told."

_Hell._ Heyes felt the thoughts falling into place inside his busily working brain. _Pakenham has this town in his pocket. He's running for mayor. Which means he must be spreading an awful lot of money around the place, to grease the wheels to make things happen. And there's no way he's doing that without the guy who runs the town bank being in on some of those deals somehow._

Aloud, all he said was, "Hard times to be in the banking line of business, or so I hear tell."

"That all depends." Matheson looked smug. "As long as you keep a cool head and know how to turn things to your advantage - and don't take any foolish risks - why, times like these can present all kinds of opportunities in the financial markets. For a man who knows what he's doing."

Heyes mentally filed that for use later on. _Don't take any foolish risks._ _I'm guessing, not at the poker table either._ He nodded sagely as if in agreement. "I believe you." Shifting his gaze to the other man, he asked, "How about you, Mr Elwood?"

"I am editor and owner of the _Lawton Gazette_." Elwood spoke precisely. "Started the newspaper, wrote it and printed it out myself for the first five years of its circulation. Now I employ writers and printers, but I still write a good part of it myself. We have nearly two hundred readers, and our circulation is growing all the time."

"That's very impressive," Heyes enthused. "And I admire a man with a literary turn of hand." _So Matheson bankrolls Pakenham… And Elwood writes nice editorials about what a fine mayor he would make for Lawton._

"You play much poker, Mr Smith?" asked Matheson. His tone was casual, but Heyes saw by the man's steady gaze that he was keenly interested in the answer to his question. Heyes let a wry smile come onto his face. "Well, now and again. I'm not what you'd call a regular player, I guess. A man can't afford to throw his money away too often, however well it passes the time." He chuckled. "My friend Thaddeus says I play poker like I pick out horses: trusting to luck, and putting a good face on it when luck doesn't show up."

Matheson exchanged brief glances: Heyes took a sip of his drink, feigning not to notice the unspoken communication that had passed between them: _This feller has more money than sense._

Letting the moment pass, Heyes set down his glass and spoke again. "I guess you gentlemen must play here pretty often?"

"Oh, when my business allows it." Matheson smiled.

"This Mr Pakenham, who sets up the game: he a handy sort of player?"

"You'll have to be the judge of that yourself, Mr Smith." Elwood spoke dryly.

Heyes smiled in reply. _Friend Elwood here has the edge over Matheson when it comes to smarts. Wonder if that means he plays a better hand of poker, too._

Elwood was regarding him a little more closely now than Heyes felt comfortable with. "You say you and your friend are in the cattle speculation line of business?"

"For the time being." Heyes kept his tone light. "Fact is, we've dabbled in a few things. Whatever brings in a little money, but doesn't make a man raise too much of a sweat. But we've done our share of hands-on work too… Even ridden trail a couple of times. A man should always know a business from the ground up," he extemporised, adopting a suitably authoritative tone. It worked on Matheson: the banker nodded in _We're-men-of-the-world_ agreement. Elwood however looked unimpressed. Unless the slightly sceptical expression on his face was a professional journalist's affectation.

"You're heading on to Fallbrook when you leave town?" the newspaperman queried. "There isn't much in the way of cattle business there, unless I'm mistaken." His tone made it clear that whatever he was, it certainly wasn't mistaken.

Heyes felt suddenly tired of dancing verbally with strangers. The beer he'd almost finished on an empty stomach – lunch bypassed by his fact-finding mission – was rising more quickly than was comfortable to his brain. Biting back an impulse to retort, _How about you stick to being a newspaper hack scribbling purple prose, and butt out of my business,_ he marshalled up a polite smile. "Well, like I said, me and my friend can turn our hand to different things. A man can always get by, if he's got a mind to put a little effort into what he does." He finished his drink and set his empty glass down on the table; used the movement as an excuse to fish his watch out of his pocket. "Well, look here: nearly half past three. I best be going to see if my friend's found his way back to the hotel." He rose and gave a friendly nod to the two men. "A pleasure meeting you, gentlemen. I'll look forward to us renewing our acquaintance this evening."

Matheson and Elwood gave nods of acquiescence, the banker's noticeably warmer than the saturnine newspaperman's. Heyes turned his back on them and headed across the room to the exit, remembering to raise a hand in farewell to Yates at the bar as he went.

-oooOOOooo-

Kid had long finished lunch and returned to the hotel room. He'd taken up station sitting at the window overlooking the street, observing passers by with idle curiosity to pass the time. As the afternoon had crept onwards restlessness had started to possess him. He was considering going in search of his partner when a familiar black hat on the street below drew his eye: Heyes, crossing over the roadway towards the hotel front.

Kid swung his feet up onto the table and waited. After a minute or so, the room door opened and Heyes came in. He glanced over at Kid at ease in front of the window and gave a brief smile. Taking off his hat he tossed it onto the dresser, moved to his bed and sat down, swinging his own feet up onto it.

"You took your time," Kid commented. "I was about to come out and find you."

"Stopped off on the way back here to get something to eat." Heyes sounded somewhat weary.

Kid regarded him appraisingly. "You okay?"

"Just dandy." The flippant retort wasn't a good sign. Kid slid his feet off the table and down to the floor, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Uh huh." He raised his eyebrows, studying his friend. "What'd you find out?"

Heyes let his head rest back against the bed head, apparently studying the ceiling. "There'll be seven of us at the game this evening. Three local fellers named Matheson, Elwood and Fischer. Plus some out of town guy, name of Dumont. I met Matheson and Elwood at the saloon. Don't seem like they're gonna be too much of a problem in the poker scheme of things… Although they're Pakenham's men, all right."

"How you figure that?"

"Elwood runs the local newspaper. So it doesn't take a genius to guess he must be writing awful nice things about the likely future mayor of this town. And Matheson owns the bank."

Kid considered that. "A banker? Jesus…"

"Oh, he won't be a problem. Talks big, but plays it safe. Or so I got the impression."

"And Elwood?"

"Kinda nosy, but maybe that's just a habit journalists get into." Heyes shrugged.

"What about these other two guys – Fischer and what's-his-name – Dupont?"

"Dumont." Heyes shook his head. "Didn't run into them. Just have to figure them out at the poker table."

Kid regarded his friend for a few moments. There was something about the brief way Heyes was answering the questions put to him that rang alarm bells. _There's something else he found out, that he's not coming right out with. Which means it ain't something good._ "That all?"

There was a pause. Then Heyes said in a matter-of-fact tone, his eyes still fixed on something seemingly fascinating on the hotel room ceiling, "Yates said there's no guns allowed at the game. So we'll have to leave ours here."

Kid considered this for half a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was flat. "No guns."

"Yep. Rule of Pakenham's poker games, apparently."

Kid stared at his partner for a long minute. Heyes kept his own gaze turned up at the ceiling. Suddenly, Kid leapt to his feet and strode across the room: checked, turned around and stomped back to the window. "Rule of _Pakenham's_." He looked back at Heyes lying on the bed, apparently calm. "Matheson and Elwood, friends of _Pakenham's_." Kid paced three angry steps away from the window, back. "Hampton, fancy dealer for _Pakenham_." More pacing.

"No point getting riled about it." Heyes spoke in a steady voice. "We had some idea what we were getting into, when we decided to do this."

"Hell we did!" Kid exploded. "And the more we find out about this damn poker game, the less likely it looks like we're gonna make this come out right, for us, _or_ for Mrs Reed."

"Kid, what difference does it make, us not wearing our guns while we're sitting at that poker table? We're not going to make Pakenham do what we want by waving a gun barrel under his nose. We have to beat him at his poker game, remember."

"_You_ have to beat him at poker. _I've_ got to convince him that I'm the meanest gunhand that's ever crossed his path. Only now somehow I've got to do that without wearing a gun!" Kid's voice had risen almost to a shout: Heyes finally took his gaze from the ceiling to direct it warningly at his partner. Kid checked himself, then continued in lower but no less angry tones. "Heyes, don't tell me you're not having doubts about this whole plan coming off the way you figured."

Heyes shut his eyes for a moment, a frown drawing his brows together. When he opened them again to look at his partner, a stubborn firmness had crept into his jaw. "I decided to do this, because I owe Hannah Reed. That hasn't changed. Sure – it's all looking a mite more complicated than I allowed for, but if we stick to the plan, it'll work."

Kid regarded him for a long time in silence. At last he let out a long breath, and dropped into the chair beside him. "Hell… I don't know who's crazier. You for dreaming up this plan, or me for going along with it."

Heyes waited, dark eyes fixed on his friend.

Kid let out a snort; then gave a wry smile. "All right. We started out to do this. Let's see it through."

Heyes' face broke into a relieved grin. "Kid, I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Don't get any ideas. If it wasn't for the Reeds, I'd be over to the livery stable and saddling my horse right now." Kid still sounded disgruntled. "And after all this is over, let's make sure we head a good long way away before we get to slowing down. I kind of have a feeling that Pakenham isn't going to be the type to forgive and forget."


	23. Chapter 23

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Three**

The afternoon slid slowly into early evening, as the two outlaws passed the last couple of hours before the poker game in their hotel room. Heyes ran through a few more card moves, before stretching himself back on his bed in an apparent attempt to catnap. Kid occupied himself by cleaning his gun, an old habit when time got to hanging heavy before a job. Regardless of the fact that he wasn't going to be carrying it into Pakenham's poker game, he still wanted to make sure that his own tool of trade was in full working order. From time to time he glanced over at his partner on the bed: he was pretty sure from the occasional shifts of position that Heyes was finding relaxing into a doze a fruitless task.

At last Heyes stirred, reaching into his pocket to bring out his watch. He glanced across at his friend. "Quarter after seven o'clock. Time to head over there."

They both stood up. Heyes had already unbuckled his gun belt and slung it over the bed post: he watched as Kid took his own revolver and placed it in his holster… then unbuckled the belt and slowly laid it on the table. As Kid lifted his gaze reluctantly away from his weapon, Heyes gave him a sympathetic smile. "Cheer up, Kid. It'll still be there waiting for you, when we get back."

The saloon was busy when they walked inside: a good crowd sitting round tables and lining the bar, a few working girls plying their trade and Yates busy supplying drinks. As Heyes and Kid drew close to the bar, Yates spotted them and nodded a greeting. Heyes smiled back; Kid, settling himself into his surly character, merely gave Yates a cool look.

Heyes leaned on the bar, to be heard above the hubbub of the busy saloon. "Evening, Ben. Looks like you're doing a roaring trade in here."

"It'll get livelier still, later on," responded Yates, nodding at the carousing crowd. "Folks like to let rip come the end of the week, I guess. But don't you worry none: back room's well out of the way of this bunch. Mr Pakenham doesn't like any ruckus when he's playing poker."

"Sounds mighty civilised," said Heyes.

"Set you boys up with a beer?" Yates was already reaching for two glasses. Heyes shook his head, still smiling. "We'll pass on that, thank you, Ben. Might get to drinking a little whiskey later on, if you've got any stashed under the bar there that won't strip the paint off the side of a house."

Yates grinned back. "Got some real good stuff, cost a mint to ship it in… Mr Pakenham always keeps a stock of fancy whiskey, just for folks that come to his poker games."

"Sounds good to me." Heyes leaned casually against the bar. "I'll look forward to trying a little of that later on. Meantime, we'll just take our ease here till it's time to head out back for the start of the game."

Yates drifted away down the bar to serve another customer. Drawing closer to his partner, Kid murmured out of the side of his mouth, "I don't see Pakenham in here yet."

"Nope. But that's Matheson and Elwood, over yonder." Heyes indicated subtly with a motion of his head to a corner table. "Matheson's the one with grey whiskers. Elwood's the lean streak of misery sitting next to him."

Kid studied the pair. "Well, they don't look like they'll be too much trouble. Who you figure the third guy is with 'em?"

Heyes regarded the third man, a nondescript middle-aged man with middle-aged spread. "Just guessing, but could be Fischer. He was the third local Yates said would be playing."

Elwood appeared to notice the duo at the bar: he nudged Matheson, who also looked across. Once eye contact was made, Heyes smiled in their direction in a friendly manner, while saying sotto voce, "Wonder if we ought to go make nice with them."

"What's the difference? We'll be sittin' down with 'em soon enough." Kid shrugged. "Unless you got a burning desire to strike up a conversation, best we stay away for the time being."

Heyes eyed him. "You're really getting into character as an unsociable type, aren't you?"

"That's my part in this deal." Kid looked back at his friend levelly. "You told me to act mean and ornery: best I just get on with it."

Heyes sighed. "This is going to be a long night."

-oooOOOooo-

As it turned out, the two outlaws didn't have to wait too long at the bar before Yates made his way back towards them. He gestured towards a door set in the wall near the end of the bar. "You can go on back through now. Mr Pakenham'll be turning up in a few minutes, so you fellers might as well get yourselves settled." He beckoned one of the working girls over. "Loraine – go tell Mr Matheson, Mr Elwood and Mr Fischer the game'll be startin' right soon, if they don't mind getting themselves out back and sat down. And that feller on the table near the door, with the tow-coloured hair, Dumont: tell him too." The woman departed on her errand.

Kid and Heyes walked along the bar to the doorway, stepping through as Yates obligingly held the door for them. They found themselves in a room furnished with table and chairs in its centre, with a few extra chairs around its edges, comfortably lit and with a degree more style and neatness than in the saloon beyond. Taking the room in with a glance, Heyes moved to one of the chairs at the table and sat down, signalling with his eyes for Kid to take the seat on his right. A few seconds later, Matheson, Elwood and Fischer came through the door and similarly headed for the table. Heyes rose politely, acknowledging their arrival with a smile; Kid merely favoured them with an ungracious look.

"It all right if my friend and I take these seats?" asked Heyes. "Not that we mind moving, if you gentlemen have a preference."

"No, no." Matheson gave a magnanimous wave of his hand. "All the same to me." He sat opposite Heyes; Elwood took a chair next to him, and Fischer sat between Elwood and Kid. As they were sitting down, the man Yates had identified as Dumont entered the room. He was younger than the local players, probably only in his early thirties; his light blonde hair and moustache were trimmed neatly, his clothes carefully pressed. He favoured them all with a small smile. "Good evening, gentlemen. Horace Dumont." His voice had a mellifluous southern twang, as polished as his appearance; he extended his hand and shook with each man in turn, before taking a seat next to Matheson.

While introductions were taking place, Heyes took the opportunity to study Dumont. The well-cut but understated clothes, the plain gold signet ring on the man's right hand, the air of quiet assurance signified one of two things: a man of wealth, or a practiced ability to play that character. As if sensing Heyes' scrutiny, Dumont's eyes turned to him: the man gave him a smile that was genuine but so swift no-one else at the table could have seen it. Heyes felt a sense of recognition.

_Well… I'm betting that Dumont knows his way around a poker table. And maybe round a few other things as well._ For a moment, he had to fight an urge to shut his eyes in disbelief. _It figures. Not only do I have to beat Pakenham and outsmart his dealer; but now we got ourselves another real poker player. This could all get real interesting._ He regarded Dumont for a moment longer, watching the man sizing up the players at the table. _Wonder if he knows how bad a loser Pakenham is… Or if he's just passing through and trying his luck._

The room door was opened again by Yates, letting in a gust of noise from the busy saloon beyond. A short, squat man wearing dealer's sleeve bandsled the way in, followed by the dark-haired man that Heyes and Kid had seen that morning in the street opposite the restaurant. He favoured the room with a pleasant smile, stopping beside the table. "Gentlemen. A very good evening to you all. Thank you for coming along." He took a seat next to Matheson, while the short man took the remaining chair next to Heyes. "Perhaps a few introductions before we start the game, although some of us are old hands at this." He gestured at the local men, who chuckled dutifully. "I am Thomas Pakenham, and this is George Hampton, who'll be our dealer for this evening."

The other men introduced themselves round the table, in turn. When this was done, Pakenham nodded at Yates, who was still waiting by the door. "Ben, you can bring in the usual bottle, and seven glasses. And coffee for George here." He smiled again around the table. "George will be keeping as sober as a judge, as is his habit, gentlemen!"

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances. _So Pakenham lays on the booze for his guests… But he makes damn sure his tame dealer stays clear-headed._ As Heyes returned his gaze to the table, he noticed Dumont looking amusedly at Pakenham. When Yates returned to the room with the drinks, Dumont received his readily enough. Taking a short sip of the whiskey in the glass, he smiled again; lifted the glass and nodded at Pakenham. "My compliments, sir. A man who knows his fine liquor is something of a rarity. A man who is generous enough to share his own personal cellar is even rarer."

Pakenham took the compliment with equally polished manners. "My pleasure, Mr Dumont. And, if I may add, a man who has the good taste to appreciate a fine drink is equally rare. Rest assured, your glass will be topped up whenever it needs it."

"I'm sure it will." There was not a hint of irony in Dumont's reply, but Heyes had no doubt that Dumont was fully aware of what lay behind Pakenham's generosity. "Thank you for your liberality, sir."

Drinks at each player's hand, the poker game began. Hampton dealt efficiently and with the minimum of communication, for all the world looking like he was working at a big casino rather than a private game in the back of a small-town saloon. As each man checked their hands and made their bets he responded promptly to requests for new cards; waited attentively for players to call or fold. At the end of each round he smoothly gathered up the cards and dealt afresh, barely raising his eyes as he worked.

Heyes kept himself so occupied in the first few rounds observing the other men in the game, he gave minimal attention to his own hand. His bets stayed low; enough to stay in play, without giving too much away. Beside him Kid played similarly conservatively: Heyes had made it clear that he needed Kid to stay in the game for at least the first couple of hours without blowing his stake. Not that losing fifty dollars in an hour should be that likely. Though Kid was not as skilled at cards as his friend, he could hold his own at a poker table. And that poker face had certainly taken in enough unsuspecting players over the years that ordinarily, Heyes wouldn't have had any doubts that Kid could hang on in there. But this was no ordinary game.

Just how out of the ordinary, started to become clear before an hour was up. Even in that short space of time, Heyes had started to get a handle on each player. Matheson played like he'd expected: not taking any risks, and consequently not winning any large pots either. Elwood played his cards close and watched the other players even more closely. Fischer was either inexperienced or inept: his plays were sometimes successful, sometimes unbelievably stupid… Which made him something of a loose cannon at the poker table, something that no player cares for. Dumont played with understated skill, and out of all of them was winning most consistently. At least, to start with.

Pakenham was the unknown quantity. He seemed at ease – _and why the hell wouldn't he be_, Heyes thought a tad sourly – whether he was winning, or losing. Neither state seemed to impede his confidence, nor affect his mood. And there seemed to be no doubt that in this room, amongst his peers, he was the undisputed alpha. Even the self-satisfied Matheson deferred to him in conversation.

Heyes found it an effort to study Pakenham with the professional detachment that was required. Even with distracting himself by sizing up each of the other players at the table, inevitably he had to turn his full attention to Pakenham at last. And it was hard to look at the handsome, smartly-dressed businessman making pleasantries with his fellow players without remembering Hannah Reed and her children, living on short commons while this fellow bought the finest whiskey to give away each week to soften up his poker marks. Or Ned Reed, lying under a cross in a pasture he gave his all to hold onto.

Heyes felt a warning nudge from Kid's knee against his own, under the table. He dropped his gaze from Pakenham's gaze to his own hand of cards, hoping that what he'd been thinking hadn't showed on his face. _Focus, Heyes. This guy's a mark, remember. Feelings don't enter into it, till the job's over._

"I said, what do you think, Mr Smith?" Pakenham's voice cut into his inner monologue, causing him to lift his gaze to the man's face again. He was smiling at Heyes, a little quizzically. Too late Heyes realised that Kid's nudge had been more than just a reminder to pay attention to the job in hand. Hoping that a sheepish smile would cover his mistake, Heyes said, "Pardon me, Mr Pakenham – I was wool-gathering there for a moment. What was it you were asking?"

"I was saying to Matheson here that there's not much stability in the livestock market these days, with all these new trail routes being opened up. I'm surprised that you and your friend Mr Jones find it pays you to speculate."

"Well, to be honest I can think of other lines of work that pay better." Heyes kept the smile on his face. "But in these difficult times, needs must where the devil drives. We just have to act on opportunities when we see them."

"Good to see men with a sense of initiative," said Pakenham. "That's what this country needs: energetic, upstanding young businessmen like yourselves who are prepared to take a few risks to make a profit. That's what will take us out of this recession."

"Hear, hear," commented Elwood, evidently mentally making notes for his next editorial. "And less interference and restrictions on trade. All those politicians back in Washington, speechifying about the state of the nation: what they don't realise is out here on the frontier, it's working hard that earns you the right to be part of this nation. There are too many idlers about, who wouldn't know an honest day's work if it up and bit them on the behind."

Kid regarded Elwood narrowly, his mind occupied like his partner's by thoughts of the Reeds. He found he was having little trouble developing a mean turn of mind. "How about if there ain't no work to be had? What do you figure folks should do then?"

Elwood regarded him aggressively. "There's always work, for those that want it."

Kid was about to make a retort when Heyes laid a calming hand on his elbow. Kid subsided with a scowl on his face, as Heyes answered Elwood in a reasonable tone of voice. "I think what my friend Thaddeus means to say is, sometimes the work there is doesn't always suit the folks that're needing to earn a living."

"Then they better make up their minds to go hungry," rejoined Elwood. "And when they're hungry enough, likely any work'll suit 'em."

"That's a fair point," said Heyes peaceably. He was aware of Kid still scowling beside him, but elected not to worry about it: after all, Kid was meant to be a dangerous man. As long as that temper didn't spill out here at the poker table, it all added to the plan.

Across the table Pakenham spoke up, as the good host keeping his guests happy. "I would take care, Mr Smith. If you encourage Frank here to expound on his philosophies about the sorry state of affairs in this country, there'll be little else talked about at this table for the rest of the evening. He's a man who wields his words as other men do revolvers."

" 'The pen is mightier than the sword'," declaimed Elwood ponderously, as if he'd produced this pearl of wisdom himself.

Opposite him at the table, Dumont said in thoughtful tones, " 'Four hostile newspapers are more to be feared than a thousand bayonets.' "

Heyes couldn't repress a smile at this, but managed to disguise it by taking a drink of whiskey. Elwood glared across the table at Dumont. "Are you insinuating that it is not the job of a newspaperman to hold this country to account, sir?"

"Not at all." Dumont shook his head, smiling at him. "I cannot take credit for those words, indeed. They were the utterance of a certain Frenchman of some renown."

"A Frenchman?" Elwood looked askance. "When they're not proposing to build preposterous giant statues that the American people are expected to pay for, they're fighting amongst themselves at the drop of a hat."

"Come now, sir," said Dumont mildly. "It was at the very birth of this country that we owed a great deal to a Frenchman named Lafayette, as I'm sure you'll recall."

Elwood seemed to be gathering himself for a wrathy reply, but was forestalled by Pakenham who intervened in the escalating debate. "Well said, Mr Dumont. But I think we can all agree that a fearless and straight-talking free press, of the kind we are lucky enough to have in this country, plays no small part in holding to account those who would perhaps otherwise feel themselves untouchable."

"Oh, that's a principle I would on no account disagree with," said Dumont. "And Lawton is indeed fortunate to possess a newspaper editor as forthright as Mr Elwood here." He nodded deferentially in Elwood's direction. "Those who live here must sleep the sounder for knowing that their civic leaders are constantly under the scrutiny of a man whose principles are as strong as his erudition."

Elwood looked momentarily derailed as he appeared to be working out what Dumont's compliment meant. Heyes found it convenient to take refuge in his glass of whiskey a second time, bending his eyes down onto the tabletop until he was sure he could raise his gaze to the men around the table again without grinning.

Dumont had scored his point subtly, but it hadn't gone unnoticed by Pakenham. The businessman's own gaze rested on the fair-haired card player with an assessing look that Heyes didn't miss. _Uh oh. Dumont may have won the battle… but looks like he could lose the war. I don't think Pakenham takes kindly to anyone teasing his loyal followers._

Heyes' inner prediction proved sadly well-founded. Over the following hour, Dumont's luck appeared to decline. He continued to play with skill, but all too often was forced to fold his hand with a resigned raise of his eyebrows. His money swiftly dwindling, it seemed that he would soon be out of the game: until on one hand he unexpectedly slid a good portion of his remaining stake into the pot, raising by an amount that most of the players around the table baulked at.

Except Pakenham. The businessman regarded Dumont thoughtfully. "Well, that's either the sign of a very confident man… Or a bluff."

Dumont inclined his head in assent. "As you say, sir. And will only cost you an equal amount to find out."

Pakenham tapped his finger gently on his cards lying face down on the table, as if considering his options. Then he reached for his money… and pushed forward not just the amount that Dumont had put up, but a great deal more. "Let's see if we can't make this a little more interesting. I raise you one hundred dollars."

Heyes observed Dumont closely. The man was a professional all right: his face showed not the slightest flicker of reaction. To match Pakenham's bet, he would have to go all in. He just nodded slowly; placed his hand against his remaining cash – and slid it into the centre of the table. "Interesting is the word for it." He met the other man's gaze. "I call you, sir."

Deliberately, Pakenham turned his hand over. "Four of a kind."

A corner of Dumont's mouth lifted in a smile that was both ironic and unsurprised. He turned his own hand over: a full house, queens over nines. "Alas, I am outmatched." He gave Pakenham a slight bow of the head. "Kudos to you, sir." His gaze took in the rest of the players around the table. "I am afraid I shall have to be the first to leave you, gentlemen. Thank you for providing me with a most entertaining few hours."

Collecting his winnings from the centre of the table, Pakenham could afford to be magnanimous. "Well played, Mr Dumont. Please have another drink before you go. And gentlemen: shall we take a short break? Say, ten minutes?"

The table broke up in a murmur of conversation, as the players rose and left the room to stretch their legs or take a comfort break. Dumont took his consolatory drink with a gracious smile, downing it with scarcely a flicker in his expression of even-handed calm.

Heyes and Kid, like the rest of the players, took advantage of the break in play to make their way into the main saloon. The noise in there seemed deafening after the quiet intensity of the back room. Heyes took advantage of the din and general mayhem to follow in Dumont's wake, drawing near to the man as he paused at one end of the bar, evidently trying to decide what to do next.

Heyes leaned next to him on the bar, after checking to make sure that Yates was nowhere in sight. He spoke deliberately low. "Are you flat busted, or did you keep enough back to pay your room bill?"

Dumont turned to look at him, his eyes wary. Heyes gave him a sympathetic smile. "Hey, I've been there my own self. Learned the hard way, not to bring every cent I had to the table with me."

Dumont regarded him a moment longer… Then his own slightly self-mocking smile surfaced on his face. "Well, at least that's one thing I got right. I had you down as a player. But you were holding back. And your friend here…" He turned his gaze to Kid, who merely returned it with a steady one of his own. "… I suspect has hidden talents, as well. Too bad I won't be staying around to find out more." His smile deepened a little. "I suspect it may prove to be a very interesting evening."

"You don't know the half of it," said Heyes. "You know you got double-duked in that last hand, right?"

"Oh, yes. And to my everlasting shame, I wasn't able to see how that goddamned dealer did it." Dumont shook his head. "He is a mighty fine mechanic, that's for sure."

"When did you work that out?"

"About the time my luck started taking a steep decline. He's not flawless – I spotted him base dealing once. But mostly, the man's an artist."

"You saw him cheating, and you didn't call him on it?" Kid said dubiously.

Dumont smiled again. "Mr Jones, there comes a point when you realise there's not a great deal to choose between a rock and a hard place. I knew I'd made our generous host in there somewhat discontented when I crossed swords with his journalist protégée. Unfortunately, after that it was only a matter of time before my luck unaccountably failed me." He shrugged. "I did have the opportunity to down a not inconsiderable amount of his very fine whiskey, a personal challenge I undertook in some small notion of revenge. I may regret it in the morning… But in my experience there are very few things a man doesn't regret, in the cold light of day."

Heyes grinned. "Well, you seem to handle losing better than most men deal with winning. Hope you've got enough left to pay your bill."

Dumont laughed. "Mr Smith, I appreciate your concern, but I can manage. Being flat broke is not an unusual state of affairs with me, but neither is it ever more than temporary." He stepped away from the bar, favouring them with a nod of acknowledgement. "Gentlemen, I wish you all the luck in the world at Mr Pakenham's poker table. I think you're going to need it." With that, he turned and slipped away through the carousing crowd.

* * *

><p><em>For anyone that's interested in FrenchAmerican relations... The "certain Frenchman of some renown" that Dumont is quoting from is one Napoleon Bonaparte. And the "preposterous giant statue that the American people are expected to pay for"? That would be the Statue of Liberty, designed by French sculptor Frederic Bartholdi and built in stages between 1875 and 1886. The cost of building the statue caused no little furore in the US in the years following the Civil War - the New York Times famously wrote that "no true patriot can countenance any such expenditures for bronze females in the present state of our finances."_


	24. Chapter 24

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Four**

Heyes watched Dumont go, thoughtfully. Beside him Kid spoke. "One down. And he was probably the best player at that table." When Heyes turned a slightly offended expression on him, Kid shrugged. Heyes eyed him for a moment, then turned back to face the bar. Speaking in low tones that the background noise of the room would keep anyone but Kid from hearing, he said, "Okay. Dumont's out. I have a feeling that it won't be too long before a couple of others find their luck running kind of thin. Question is, who's it going to be? Because I figure that's why Pakenham suggested we all had ourselves a little break: so he could tell Hampton who he wants edged out of the game next."

"You're thinking, maybe one of us?"

"Yeah. The way I see it, Pakenham probably sees out-of-town players as a quick way to build up his fortunes. I'm guessing he'll maybe try to keep a couple of the locals in the game for a while longer, and one of us: build up the stakes on the table, then whichever one of us is left playing, he'll clean out."

"With Hampton's help." Kid nodded grimly. "And we don't have any way of telling who Pakenham's gonna have Hampton deal losing hands to next: you, or me."

"Let's not wait and find out." Heyes shook his head. "I reckon it's time Hampton got a little something extra in his coffee."

"How do you plan on doing that, without anyone seeing?"

"You're going to make a diversion. When we go back into the room, make like you trip over Fischer's chair, then act like it's his fault. Chew him off a strip, and lay it on thick. While you're doing that, I'll put the ipecac in Hampton's coffee. Hopefully the others'll try acting peacemakers and that'll keep 'em busy."

"And you reckon that stuff will really work?"

"It'll do the trick." Heyes spoke assuredly.

"You sure it ain't gonna do him any real harm?"

"Relax, Kid. I already measured out the right dose, back at the hotel, and poured the rest away. I'm not going to give him too much."

"How'd you know what that stuff does, anyhow?"

"I'll tell you one day. It's a long story." Heyes got a thoughtful look on his face for a moment – then appeared to dismiss whatever memory had produced it. "So: you clear on what we're going to do?"

"Yeah. I trip over Fischer's chair and pick a fight with him about it, and the others get into it between us. Meanwhile, you slip Hampton a dose."

"Right." Heyes nodded.

Yates came into view at the bar, evidently looking around for them. When his gaze found the two men, he signalled with a beckoning hand. "Break's over, boys… Mr Pakenham's ready to start play again."

As the two outlaws headed into the back room, Heyes let Kid take the lead, dropping slightly behind and heading round the opposite side of the table. He saw Kid pass behind Fischer, who was just sitting down: there was the sound of Kid's boot connecting with the back legs of the chair and he seemed to stumble and almost fall, throwing out a hand to grab the back of the chair and almost jerking it over. Fischer rocked as Kid apparently recovered his equilibrium, then rounded irately on the doughy-faced local man. "Watch what you're doing, you lunkhead – you want to look before you go shovin' your chair around? You near about busted my ankle!"

Fischer paled at the sudden flood of aggression. "Why, I didn't – I didn't mean to - "

"I don't care what you meant, you clumsy old gump!" Kid loomed over him menacingly. "Ain't you got eyes in your head, or you just figure you'll wear 'em out by using 'em?"

The other players at the table started to make attempts at intervention, Matheson and Elwood trying to interpose between their luckless fellow townsman and the angry Kid, while Pakenham himself beckoned Hampton to deal with the situation, his eyes on the scene.

Heyes saw Hampton's coffee cup sitting unattended on the table, freshly filled and steaming gently. He'd already opened and palmed the tiny bottle of ipecac before he'd come into the room: now he swiftly passed his hand over the cup and let the liquid tip out into the hot coffee. As soon as he'd done this he brought his hand back to his jacket and slid the empty bottle back into his pocket. Even as he was bringing his hand out again, he started speaking, stepping up close to Kid. "Why, calm down, Thaddeus. I'm sure it was all an accident." For a second his partner's eyes met his and Heyes signalled with a look: _Done_. Speaking aloud, he continued to pour oil on troubled waters. "Least said, soonest mended. Come on now, sit down and quit rampaging about the place."

Grumbling sulkily, Kid dropped heavily into his chair. Relieved, the other players also resumed their seats. Fischer shot Kid a wide-eyed look, sweating visibly: Heyes suspected that the portly man would have paid good money to be able to swap seats with someone else at the poker table. He spoke up again, addressing the local man. "Mr Fischer, don't mind my friend here. He's got a temper on him, but it doesn't signify. Just gets to feeling a little crotchety now and then. I find it's best just to give him some elbow room when that happens."

Fischer shrank a half-inch away from Kid, not looking particularly reassured. Across the table Pakenham addressed them. "Well, I have to say, that's not the kind of conduct we're used to having at our poker table. We play a civilised game here." His eyes rested on Kid. "I hope we won't be seeing any more outbursts from you, Mr Jones."

Feeling like a scolded child, Kid had no trouble letting his irritation show on his face. Narrowing his eyes, he stared back at Pakenham and said nothing. After a few awkward seconds passed, he heard Heyes give a meaningful clearing of his throat: thus prompted, Kid brought forth an ungracious apology. "No offence meant." His words sounded in a growl that didn't seem to relax Fischer any, but Heyes acted as though everything was all fixed.

"There you go, Mr Fischer."

Pakenham regarded Kid a few moments longer… Then turned to his dealer. "Well, Hampton: we're ready to play."

Once the game had started again, conversation began to flow a little more easily between the players, although Fischer evidently found it hard to recover from his bruising encounter with Kid. He took to looking nervously at his neighbour each time Kid spoke or moved. His poker playing, which had never been anything like competent, suffered accordingly and before long his table stakes dwindled. After one particularly ruinous round, he laid down his cards and shook his head. "Well I… don't seem to be doing too well, tonight. I think I'll retire from the game."

A polite chorus of regret greeted this announcement, except from Kid who merely grunted. Pushing back his chair – with another nervous glance at Kid – Fischer stood up, nodded his farewells and exited the room.

Heyes saw Pakenham watch Fischer's exit, then switch his gaze to Kid. There was something in the businessman's expression that told Heyes that his friend's tenure in the game was also likely to be over soon. For a moment he let his imagination wander, putting himself in Pakenham's place. _Wonder what it feels like, to know that you can make something happen just by wanting it to. And what it does to you, being that powerful. _

Heyes had been in on enough cons, sometimes big ones, to know the intoxicating feeling of being in control. Watching some mark dancing to your tune and not even knowing it, just as if you were pulling their strings. It was a rush, all right. Sometimes it had even been fun, for a little while. But sooner or later you came back down to earth. And nowadays… it was rare that he and Kid were ever anywhere near the top in the grand scheme of things. Like as not, someone else was pulling the strings.

Kid regarded the latest hand of cards he'd been dealt. He kept his face still, but inwardly he was pulling a wry expression. _Think I know who Pakenham's decided is gonna be the next player to walk away from this table._ He debated within himself for a few seconds whether to dig in his heels and play defensively, hang onto his stake as long as he could make it last – his natural reluctance to let someone get the better of him being a hard habit to shake – but thought better of it. _Hell. No point in spinning things out. Heyes can hold up his end of things, he don't need me here any longer._ He gave his partner a quick glance, then let his gaze move on to rest on Hampton. The dealer showed no signs yet of any ill effects of what had been put in his drink. If anything, he appeared to be paying closer attention to the game than before.

The coup de grace wasn't long in coming. Kid found himself down to his last ten dollars, and looking at a hand that contained nothing higher than a six of diamonds. After he'd called, discarded three cards and gotten another – equally uninspiring – three replacement cards from Hampton, he watched with a sense of inevitability as Pakenham tossed twenty dollars into the pot. When the raise came round the table to him, Kid simply tossed his hand away with a scowl. "I'm done." He pushed back his chair from the table, standing up.

Heyes looked up at his friend. "You leaving?"

"I don't figure sitting here watching you lose'll be much to hang around for." Kid shrugged. "I'm gonna go bar side, see if I can catch the eye of one of them girls was hanging round earlier." He turned to Pakenham and gave him a nod that barely escaped being outright insolent. "Thanks for the game."

Pakenham regarded Kid with a cool gaze. "You're welcome, Mr Jones. Enjoy the rest of your evening." His reply was as a near an outright dismissal as made no difference.

Kid merely let one corner of his mouth twist in a sour smile, then left the room, letting the door bang loudly to behind him.

There was something of a hiatus around the table. Heyes felt obliged to fill the silence. "Well, if there's one thing my friend hates, it's losing." He put on a cheery smile. "Hope you gentlemen won't let it spoil your evening."

The atmosphere lightened a little. Pakenham gestured at Hampton, who began to deal a new hand. As the game restarted, Matheson addressed Heyes. "I must admit, I'm surprised you and Mr Jones find you can work together as colleagues. He doesn't strike me as a man who would do well in the business world."

Heyes smiled again, meeting Matheson's eye. "You'd be surprised. Thaddeus has some skills that can come in right handy where making money is concerned."

"Such as?" queried Matheson, evidently intrigued.

"Well, you might not think it to look at him, but Thaddeus is something of an expert in security matters," replied Heyes. "You might say, he has a talent for it that outstrips most people."

"Security?" Elwood horned in on the conversation, his journalistic instincts twitching. "Are we talking bank security here? Or payroll and suchlike?"

"Oh, he can pretty much turn his hand to most things." Heyes kept his tone casual. "He's what you might call a self-made man. Handy feller to have as a partner, as long as he doesn't get riled up."

"And what happens when he gets riled up?" enquired Pakenham drily.

Heyes smiled across the table at the businessman. "Well, let's just say that most folks find it easier not to get on the wrong side of him… And leave it at that."

With Kid out of the game, play was starting to require Heyes' full attention. His early instincts about the other players at the table seemed to be proving right: Matheson was playing too safe to avoid being predictable, and was starting to lose money in a steady trickle. Elwood was canny enough to hold his own, although his attempts at maintaining a poker face were sometimes too obvious. Pakenham consistently played well, whether by means of his pet dealer or his own skill wasn't totally clear as yet. Heyes had been hoping for the former, but wasn't confident that this was the case. There was a practiced ease in the way Pakenham handled his cards that spoke of long familiarity with the game.

_That'd be one hell of a circumstance,_ thought Heyes grimly. _If Pakenham is anywhere half as good at sleight of hand as his dealer, then it's going to get real interesting round this table._

Hampton himself appeared to be still one hundred percent on the job, and had been for some time now. Heyes began worrying about the amount of ipecac he'd put in the dealer's coffee. He hadn't want to hurt Hampton, only to incapacitate him: but maybe he'd been over-cautious. Mentally cursing himself, he tried to focus on the cards in front of him and on the other players. _Got to play the hand out, however it goes._

Matheson's voice broke through Heyes' concentration. "Wait a moment, Hampton. I said, give me two cards. That's three."

Heyes found his gaze turning to the dealer. The little man looked perturbed, as if making a mistake was something that didn't happen to him. He also looked a little… sweaty.

Pakenham was also frowning at his dealer. "Really, Hampton… That's inexcusable." He nodded at the banker. "I apologise, Matheson. We'll have to scrub this hand. Everyone take back your bets."

Picking up everyone's cards from the table, Hampton slid them onto the base of the pack, then started to deal again. Halfway through the deal he paused, as if losing count; blinked; then took a breath. Pakenham eyed him.

"Hampton, what's the matter with you? You're keeping us waiting."

"Sorry, Mr Pakenham." Hampton blinked again; his face had suddenly lost a lot of its colour, and was now sheened with sweat.

"Never mind – just get on, will you?"

Hampton swallowed, then laid the deck of cards down on the table. Heyes spoke up. "You don't look so good, Mr Hampton. You need a little air or something?"

"Yes – I – I think so - " Hampton swallowed again, and pressed a hand to his sweating forehead. "Just feeling a little warm - "

A look of annoyance at his employee's frailty passed over Pakenham's face, before he gave in to circumstances. "Then maybe we had better take another short break, gentlemen. Hampton, get yourself straightened out. Tell Yates to fix you a sandwich and some water to drink. Likely you're just hungry or somesuch."

"Yessir." Hampton was already standing up and edging away from the table, glassy-eyed. Heyes regarded the ailing dealer with something approaching sympathy. He suspected that even the thought of a sandwich was the last thing Hampton needed right now.

As the dealer left the room with a strained look on his face, Pakenham addressed the other three men. "I apologise for this interruption, gentlemen. But we would have been taking a break sometime soon, anyway. Shall we reconvene back here in, say, twenty minutes?"

A murmur signalled their agreement: pushing back their chairs, all the players moved away from the table and exited through to the saloon.

Once out of the back room, Heyes cast his gaze around the saloon for Kid. Spotting him sitting on his own at a back table with a glass of whiskey in front of him, Heyes made his way over and dropped into a chair, giving him a smile. "Okay. We're in business. I think Hampton's started to feel it."

Kid nodded. "You think he'll have to drop out of being dealer?"

"I'm pretty sure of it." Heyes nodded. "Then it's showtime." He looked thoughtful. "Which, I gotta say, I still don't know exactly how it's going to go. I've been watching Pakenham real close the last hour… And I still don't know if he's on the square, or if he's a sharper himself. He can play: I know that much."

Kid regarded his partner levelly. "Well, you got to beat him. Otherwise we just wasted an evening throwing away our hard-earned cash, and the Reeds are still in Dutch."

"You don't have to remind me." Heyes rested his elbows on the table and released a slow breath out. "I'll do it. After all this, I don't care how slippery that son of a bitch is at the card table: I am nailing him if it takes me till dawn to do it."

"Glad to hear it." Kid also leaned forward with his elbows on the table, dropping his voice a little. "Meantime, what do you want me to do? Stick around here, in case you run into any trouble?"

"If I get into trouble at that poker table, there won't be anything you can do about it," said Heyes with a rueful smile. "But I'm thinking… It would be good if you kept a watch on the saloon. When I beat Pakenham, I'm not too sure what he'll do – but what I'm aiming to do is raise the stakes so he winds up owing me more than he's brought with him to the table. I'll refuse to settle for anything except cash: that way he'll have to head over to his office with me, to settle up. I'm betting that as a naturally mistrustful type he keeps some of his money stashed over there, not just in the bank."

"So you want me to watch out for the two of you leaving here?"

"Yeah. And make sure you don't get seen watching, by him or anyone else."

"You know me better than that."

Heyes smiled at his partner. "I know I can rely on you to watch my back. That's all I need to know."

Kid smiled back. "Just make sure you bring Pakenham on his lonesome. If we're going to make him cut a deal, we don't need any witnesses."

Heyes nodded. Kid picked up his glass from the table and made to take a drink – then paused, his eyes evidently drawn to something behind Heyes, across the room. Heyes looked at his partner, then turned around. Over at the bar, Pakenham was speaking to Yates. The businessman was evidently annoyed: he wore a frown of irritation as he appeared to question his bartender. Yates, for his part, was wilting a little under his employer's ire: he kept shaking his head, each time he did so looking a little more abject. Finally Pakenham turned away from Yates and headed through the door that led into the back room, shutting it sharply behind him.

"Wonder what all that was about?" asked Kid.

A small smile rose to Heyes' lips. "I think maybe our good friend Ben Yates has just had to break some unwelcome news to Pakenham… about the health of his poker dealer." He rose from the table. "Think I'll go and make sure." He paused for a moment, meeting his friend's eyes. "See you later."

"Yeah. Good luck."

Heyes gave his partner a parting grin, then walked away from his table. Kid watched him go with mixed feelings. _There goes the old Heyes I-can-do-it confidence. Like nothing in the world could go wrong._ Kid recalled Dumont's words, from earlier in the evening.

- _I wish you all the luck in the world at Mr Pakenham's poker table. I think you're going to need it. _

Kid didn't like to rely on luck. In his experience, luck was like rain: it showed up when you least expected it, and never when you needed it. He preferred to put his faith in more solid things, which was one reason why he practiced with his gun the amount he did. And while Heyes' ability at the card table was generally a pretty solid thing too, this was no ordinary poker game. Not being there in that back room any more, nor being able to see what was going on between Heyes and Pakenham, was making him twitchy. _Sure I can watch his back… But the one thing we know for sure is that Pakenham's a sore loser. And sore losers can be big trouble._

Kid had lost count of the number of times he'd had to back Heyes up, when some mouthy busted poker player got to acting up or reaching for a weapon. Sometimes Heyes could talk them down and the dust settled without Kid having to step in, but there were always those times when the silver tongue failed to work its magic. Drunk players or habitual gamblers made for an unreceptive audience, and the problem with Heyes was that sometimes he concentrated so hard on the game that he didn't always pick up on the little details that Kid saw. The way a player clenched his hand when he lost; a certain blankness that often showed in the eyes of a man who'd gotten used to solving all of life's problems with his fists; the slight shift of stance that signalled that someone was readying themselves to reach for something to deal out hurt with.

It was a sixth sense that Kid had long ago given up wishing he didn't have. Once he had wondered what it would feel like, to be able to just sit back and relax, not seeing how a man across the room was going to be trouble.

_But without it, by now we'd both be dead or pulling twenty years in Wyoming Territorial Prison. So I can live with it._ Picking up his glass of whiskey, he drained it and set the glass back down on the scarred wooden table. Then he stood up and made his way across the crowded saloon towards the door that led out onto the street. Just before stepped outside, he looked back towards the bar. Heyes was leaning against it, apparently in conversation with Yates. Kid turned and headed out into the night to find an out-of-the-way place to wait.


	25. Chapter 25

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Five**

At the bar, Heyes was listening to Yates relate his tale of woe. "…Then I hollered through the outhouse door to George, that Mr Pakenham wanted him back inside right smart. But he only said, he couldn't come out right now… And then I heard him – Uh, well, he ain't in any kind of shape to come back to the game, that's for sure."

"Poor feller," said Heyes sympathetically. "Sounds like maybe he ate something that disagreed with him."

"All I know is, Mr Pakenham's plenty angry about it." Yates looked worried.

"Well, it can't be helped. If George is too sick to do his job, we'll just have to work things out by dealing for the rest of the game our own selves." Heyes shrugged. "Doesn't seem like too big a problem."

"I guess so." Yates still looked worried. "I best go let Mr Matheson and Mr Elwood know that the game's about to start again. You can head right on back there, Mr Smith."

Heyes did as he was told, walking to the door that led to the back room and opening it. A sight met his eyes that he had half expected: Pakenham sitting at the table, holding one deck of cards, while another lay on the table a little way away from him. The businessman looked up at Heyes, his face changing quickly from a frown into a somewhat artificial smile. "Ah, Mr Smith. Come in, sit yourself down. I think the others will be here shortly."

Heyes smiled back, moving to his chair and sitting down. He deliberately kept his eyes off the deck of cards lying on the table, but inwardly his thoughts were busy. _Two decks. And I'm betting that friend Pakenham has just been stacking at least one of them. So I was right: either Hampton taught his boss a few moves, or maybe Pakenham was something of a cardman himself before he even showed up in Lawton. Makes sense: he must have needed some kind of a stake to set himself up here._

The room door opened, admitting Matheson and Elwood, followed by a still harassed-looking Yates. He met his employer's questioning eye with a brief shake of the head: at this Pakenham frowned. As Matheson and Elwood took their seats at the table, Pakenham spoke. "I'm afraid, gentlemen, that we appear to have lost our dealer. Yates tells me that Hampton is indisposed… And it seems unlikely that he'll be rejoining us."

A chorus of polite murmurs of regret arose from the other three men. Heyes took the opportunity to say, "Hope it's nothing serious. Your man looked pretty peaked just now."

"No… I think not." There was certain grimness about Pakenham's expression that implied that even if Hampton's illness wasn't serious, the subsequent dressing down he was going to receive would be. "However, we need not let it spoil our game. If you gentlemen are agreeable to us taking over the dealing ourselves, we can continue."

The other players acquiesced. Pakenham turned to Heyes with a smile. "Mr Smith, would you care to be dealer first?" He offered the deck he'd been holding.

"Sure." Heyes took the deck, weighing it for just a split second in his hands. It didn't feel light, so the chances were Pakenham hadn't culled any cards from it… But Heyes was under no illusions: most likely the businessman had taken full advantage of his time alone in the room to prepare for the ensuing play without his tame dealer. _Okay, Pakenham. Let's see just how good you are._ He cut the pack he'd been given, riffle shuffled it with deliberate swiftness, then began to deal.

As he laid the cards in front of each player he was aware of a sudden focussed attention from Pakenham. Finishing the deal, he picked up his own hand and allowed his gaze to travel up briefly to meet the other man's. Realisation showed in Pakenham's eyes: then the man's face hardened slightly. Heyes held his gaze for a moment. _See something you didn't like, huh? That you're not the only player at this table knows their way around a deck of cards._ Then turned his attention to his own hand.

Pakenham wasn't the only player at the table to notice Heyes' improved poker skills. Both Matheson and Elwood looked initially a little confounded at finding themselves in a game that had suddenly escalated in both the level of play and the size of the stakes. Matheson in particular began to look increasingly ill at ease at the risks he was having to take to stay in the game. Elwood rallied after a few hands, looking determined to fight his corner to the bitter end.

As the game intensified, conversation flagged. They had been playing for nearly half an hour with little more than the bare minimum of communication needed for the game; Heyes had just won a good-sized pot with a queen-high flush when Pakenham spoke. "It's a shame your friend couldn't manage to stay in the game, Mr Smith… But it seems your luck's taken a turn for the better since he left."

Heyes met the other man's look: let a smile come onto his own face. "Guess it just took me a little while to get warmed up."

"It would seem so." Pakenham matched the smile with one of his own, which had no warmth in it at all. "You play much poker?"

"Now and again." It was Heyes' turn as dealer: after everyone had anted up he picked up the deck, riffle and strip shuffled it, then dealt out four hands.

"You seem to be pretty handy with cards." Pakenham was evidently going to force the issue.

Heyes didn't lift his eyes from his own hand. "Well… I'd say you were pretty useful at poker yourself, Mr Pakenham. You've won a tidy sum so far this evening."

"I play regularly." Pakenham was giving no ground. "And I have a credo, Mr Smith: whatever I do, I try to do to the best of my ability."

"That's an admirable philosophy." Heyes nodded. "I guess that serves you well in your business, too. Must be why you're such a successful man."

"I look for opportunities; when I see them, I make the most of them," said Pakenham. "That's how a man can advance himself in this world."

"Never a truer word was said," interposed Elwood, evidently feeling obliged to speak up for his fellow townsman. "Why, you've been a fine example to folks in this town, sir. You've showed people that any American can make a success of himself, if he only works hard enough and has the gumption to stick to it."

"A fine example indeed," agreed Heyes. "Why, I've only been in these parts a short while, but I've heard a great deal about Mr Pakenham." He let his gaze travel across to meet the businessman's.

Pakenham's eyes narrowed just a little. "Indeed."

"You have quite a reputation." Heyes brought a smile onto his face again. "And when Ben Yates told me about this poker game, I just thought it would be a fine opportunity to get to meet the man I'd heard so much about."

"I hope you didn't believe everything you heard, Mr Smith." Pakenham was regarding him steadily now. "If a man had to live up to everything that folks said about him, that would be a challenge indeed."

"Well, now we've had an opportunity to meet, I can honestly say that you match up to everything I heard." Heyes nodded in affirmation.

Pakenham kept his gaze on him a moment longer. "How gratifying." He pushed some bills forward. "Twenty dollars."

The bet was called around the table: Pakenham requested two cards, Matheson three, Elwood two. Heyes dealt himself two. Pakenham laid more money down. "Raise fifty dollars."

Matheson laid his hand face down on the table. "Fold."

Beside him Elwood frowned, then pushed forward his own matching bet. "Call."

Attention shifted to Heyes, who pursed his lips slightly… Then pushed his hand away. "I fold."

Just for a split second, Pakenham looked surprised. Then he glanced at Elwood. "Just you and me for the showdown then, Jake." Elwood turned his hand over: three jacks. Pakenham revealed his own cards: a full house, kings over fours.

As Pakenham drew his winnings across the table, Heyes said affably, "Looks like your own luck isn't running so bad right now, Mr Pakenham." He met the businessman's look with an open expression that gave nothing away. _Maybe you reckoned I was going to try dealing myself a winning hand in that round. Keep on guessing._

-oooOOOooo-

In the shadows of a doorway about fifty yards down the street from the saloon, Kid shifted position for about the twentieth time. The place he'd chosen to wait in gave a decent view of the saloon entrance, but that was all it had to recommend it. Darkness meant that he was able to stay unobserved by any chance nocturnal wanderers, but standing motionless in the gloom of the narrow doorway had got old pretty quick.

Time was dragging. Kid had no idea how long he'd been standing there, but it felt long enough. The trouble was, he had no idea of how long he was likely to need to keep waiting. For all he knew, Heyes could be wiping Pakenham out right now… Or he could be playing for another hour. Or two hours. Or till daybreak.

Kid sighed. _Maybe Heyes got the hard part, winning that poker game... But at least he gets to do it sitting down._ He shifted in the doorway again, leaning back against the wood of the building. He felt even twitchier about being out here than he had about being in the main room of the saloon. Although at least now he had his gun again. It had been the first thing he'd done after walking out the saloon door: headed straight back to the hotel and put on his gun belt, before returning quickly to take up station here. He felt a little better with the weight of it on his hip.

The saloon door swung open, letting a couple of figures out onto the night street. Kid stiffened and peered out in the darkness, trying to identify whom it was from faces or voices. The figures stepped out up the street in his direction and he pulled right back into the shadows as they drew level. The voices were blurred with drink and raucous as the men reeled past, one short and bulky and the other tall. _Not Heyes and Pakenham._ Kid relaxed as they meandered away on their journey homewards, snatches of song floating back in the still night air. Folding his arms across his chest, he settled himself down in the doorway and resumed his study of the saloon frontage. _Gonna be a long night. You never said a truer word, Heyes._

-oooOOOooo-

The poker game had been going on for a little over six hours now. All four men were still in the game, although Matheson's stakes had dwindled significantly and his bets had become perfunctory. Elwood was still hanging in like a bulldog, still winning the odd pot. But the main action was unmistakeably taking place between the other two players at the table.

Heyes had long ago quit worrying about keeping up his earlier front of amiable amateurishness, at least as far as Pakenham was concerned. He knew that the man had figured out that his opponent was his match at poker. What Matheson and Elwood might be thinking had also ceased to bother Heyes: his full concentration was bent on the game, and on the moves he managed to see Pakenham making.

The wealthy businessman was not anywhere near as accomplished a sharper as his employee Hampton, but he was no slouch at helping the odds in his own favour. When it was his turn to deal, he made use of several techniques to give himself an edge. Bottom dealing, false cuts, blind shuffles… None of which seemed to be perceived by his two fellow townsmen. Heyes was careful not to let anything show on his own face when he noticed the moves. Similarly, if Pakenham had perceived any of the strategies Heyes himself had begun using, he wasn't telegraphing the fact.

Whether it was the all-night session, the whiskey, or just general fatigue, a growing sense of unreality had begun creeping over Heyes. It felt like he'd been sitting in that room for days, staring at cards until the suits began to float in front of his eyes. He knew that his back was aching; that his throat felt dry; that Matheson was sweating over whether to toss his hand in altogether and scuttle off while he still had the shirt on his back; that Elwood would probably be there till sun-up; and that unless he did something decisive he and Pakenham could be at this cat and mouse game till they both died of old age.

_Okay. Time for something different._

He flexed his shoulders, letting out a weary-sounding sigh; rubbed one hand over his eyes - then glanced at Pakenham briefly, as if regretting showing a momentary weakness. Pakenham looked at him appraisingly. "Feeling a little tired, Mr Smith?"

"No, no; just a mite stiff." Heyes made his voice take on a little bravado. "I can play on all night, if needs be."

Pakenham merely nodded; waited until he was dealt his hand, then quietly made his bets. But there was a slight set to his jaw that signified a determination to close in for the finish. Heyes looked at his own hand: blinked at it, raised when the betting came to him; took two cards, and raised again, shooting a sidelong glance at Pakenham.

The businessman called. They turned their cards over for showdown and Heyes regarded his three of a kind and Pakenham's straight with a slight frown.

Pakenham drew his winnings across the table. "Your deal, Mr Smith."

Heyes dealt, throwing in a base deal that landed an ace in his hand. He saw Pakenham's eyes fix on him: knew the other man had sensed something. When it came to the second round of betting and Heyes raised, Pakenham tossed his own hand in. "Fold." Heyes wound up netting most of what Matheson had left, plus Elwood's and Pakenham's ante: mostly small pickings. He passed the deck to Pakenham, frustration showing on his face. The businessman favoured him with a smile. "Maybe better luck next time, Mr Smith."

This time before Pakenham dealt, he overhand shuffled and false cut before dealing. Heyes watched the hands being dealt with a sense of foreboding. _Here it comes._ He picked up his hand: jack of hearts, jack of clubs, nine of hearts, six of diamonds and three of hearts. He kept his face still as he studied the cards, then replaced them on the table. Looking up at Pakenham, he saw the confidence there. _That son of a bitch. He's going to try and double duke me, the way he did Dumont. He thinks I'm that dumb._

The betting opened. Matheson checked; Elwood went for a fifty dollar opener. Heyes called it, then waited for Pakenham to make his play.

Pakenham tossed his fifty dollars in. "Call." That was enough for Matheson: he folded with a look on his face like a kid who'd gone to his Christmas stocking and found a lump of coal there.

Elwood tapped his finger on the table. "Give me two cards." He got them, and looked pleased enough. Heyes looked at Pakenham. "I'll take two as well." Pakenham dealt him his cards; said quietly, "Dealer takes three," and dealt his own.

Heyes looked at what he'd been given with a sense of resignation. He'd discarded the six and three, and had gotten the jack of diamonds and jack of spades in return. Four of a kind, a very good chance of being the winning hand. He let his gaze switch briefly to Elwood: the stone-faced newspaperman's mouth twitched briefly at one corner as if with satisfaction. _Looks like friend Elwood there is looking at something mighty satisfying, too. So he'll be pushing up the stakes, which'll mean I've got to follow or fold. And who in hell would fold when they're holding four of a kind?_

Elwood put his hand in his stake, and shoved a good amount of it forward. "I bet another fifty."

Heyes cut his gaze briefly at Pakenham, then put his hand on his own money. "Fifty…and I raise you fifty." He pushed his bet in.

Pakenham pursed his lips, as if considering… Then nodded. "Let's make it two hundred."

Elwood looked momentarily taken aback. He gnawed on his lip a moment. But with a hundred dollars of his money already sitting on the table, he seemed to think that backing out at this stage would ill become the fearless representative of the American free press that he claimed himself to be. "Two… hundred it is."

Heyes looked thoughtfully at Pakenham, one hand resting on the remainder of his stake. "Well…" He let one corner of his mouth lift up. "Let's see what you're made of, gentlemen." He moved his arm slowly, adding everything he had left on the table to his bet. "All in." Then he paused; reached into his jacket, and brought out a notebook and pen. Tearing out a sheet of paper and writing on it, he smiled at the others. "I don't usually do this, gentlemen. But this feels like a special occasion." He let his gaze rest challengingly on Pakenham. "Here's my promissory note… for two thousand dollars. That and my table stakes brings to…" He appeared to calculate for a moment. "Just over three and a half thousand dollars."

Across the table, Elwood looked thunderstruck. Pakenham raised one eyebrow. "That's not how we usually do things at this poker table, Mr Smith. Table stakes only is what we play."

"Oh, I'm good for it." Heyes smiled across at the businessman. "You have my word on that."

"Indeed." Pakenham regarded him steadily. "Far be it for me to doubt the word of another… gentleman." The pause was deliberately long. "But I'm sure you won't mind me asking what kind of collateral you have to put up, in the event of your losing?"

"Not at all." Heyes met the other man's gaze, held it just as steadily. "Got a couple of good horses and gear that're worth six hundred dollars, if you need a downpayment."

"And your friend Mr Jones won't mind you trading those in?"

"My friend Mr Jones will go along with what I say."

"And the other fourteen hundred dollars?"

Heyes leaned forward. "Well, that's assuming I lose this hand. But you see, I think I'm gonna win."

Pakenham smiled. "That's if we accept your promissory note."

Heyes smiled back. "Well, I figured you were a man who was big enough to take a few risks. Could be I was wrong though."

"I take risks when it's worth my while." Pakenham's voice was quiet now, but it had steel in it. "I'm not sure that taking your promissory note on faith will turn out to be worth my while, if all I end up with is six hundred dollars and a piece of paper."

Heyes considered for a moment, his jaw tensing. At last he nodded. "Okay. Then how's this for collateral: if I lose this hand to you, I owe you what's on that piece of paper… And I'll settle it by working for you for as long as it takes me to pay the debt off." He gestured at Elwood. "And I'm happy to write that down in front of Mr Elwood and Mr Matheson here as witnesses."

"Work for me?" Pakenham frowned slightly. "And what exactly do you think you could do for me, Mr Smith?"

"Well, that'd be up to you." Heyes shrugged, but kept his eyes fixed on the other man. "Long as it's lawful. After all, you'd be the boss… If I lost."

Pakenham was silent for a moment, studying Heyes. Then one corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. "All right, Mr Smith… We'll accept your promissory note. That is, of course, if Mr Elwood and Mr Matheson are agreeable too." He shot a glance at the two locals. Both men, clearly out of their depth, merely nodded. "Then that's fine. Provided that you do as you said – write down that you will work for me for the duration of the time it will take to pay off the two thousand dollars."

"Fourteen hundred dollars," Heyes tried to suggest, "if I sell the horses and gear -"

"Oh no, Mr Smith. You may need your horse when you're working for me. And besides…" He gave a scornful smile. "Mr Jones isn't here to agree to his horse being sold out from under him. I suspect he may not be too amenable to the idea."

"Like I said, he'll go along with what I say."

"Yes, you said that." Pakenham was still smiling ironically. "Nevertheless, if you want to make this bet, that's what we'll agree to. A promissory note for two thousand dollars."

Heyes hesitated for a moment – then took out his notebook again. Tearing out a second sheet, he wrote vigorously across the paper, speaking out loud as he did so. " 'I, Joshua Smith, hereby agree to being bound to work for Mr Thomas Pakenham for such time as it takes to pay off the amount of two thousand dollars. Signed, Joshua Smith' - " he scrawled his signature " ' and witnessed by Frank Elwood and Jim Matheson.' " He pushed the paper across to the banker and newspaperman. After quick glances at Pakenham, they signed their names as well. Heyes took the piece of paper back and laid it ceremoniously on the poker table. "There you go, Mr Pakenham. Signed and sealed. Good enough for you?"

"Good enough." Pakenham looked at the two pieces of paper lying on the table, then lifted his eyes to Heyes. There was something darkly satisfied in his expression. Heyes had the sudden uncomfortable sensation that this was how it might have felt to be Ned Reed, all those years ago.

"Of course…" Pakenham appeared to be considering now. "That's still a very large bet, Mr Smith."

"You don't want to call me, all you got to do is fold." Heyes let just an edge of bravado creep into his voice.

"Oh, I didn't say that." Pakenham took his table stakes and slid them into the betting round. "That's two thousand dollars in cash there. And…" He took a small notebook out of his own pocket, wrote on a leaf, and dropped it onto the table. "As we've established a precedent: here's my promissory note for the other one and a half thousand dollars." He met Heyes' gaze with his own. "And I can assure you, I'm good for it. Matheson here is my banker: he will vouch for me."

Matheson, getting his cue, was quick to jump to his fellow townsman's bidding. "Yes, yes – there is no question that Mr Pakenham is good for that amount."

"Okay." Heyes gave a shrug. "Then it's down to you, Mr Elwood."

The newspaperman had gone an ashy grey colour. In a strangled voice, he said, "I fold."

Heyes turned his gaze back on Pakenham. "Then I guess it's showdown time, Mr Pakenham. Unless you want to raise again."

For an answer, Pakenham slowly picked up his hand, then turned it face up. All spades, in sequence. "Straight flush, ten high." He spoke with finality, his eyes resting on Heyes.

Heyes looked at the hand silently for a long moment, his mouth tightening. Across the table, Pakenham's triumph was palpable. After a moment's silence, the businessman spoke. "Well now, Mr Smith… You played a good bluff. But you never know how the cards will fall."

Heyes was still for a moment longer, his hand resting on the table, eyes lowered. Then his gaze switched up to Pakenham: there was no trace of a smile as he slowly moved his fingers to pick up his cards. "You never said a truer word, Mr Pakenham. In poker you just never know what's going to show up." Deliberately he laid down his own hand. "Something of a coincidence. Straight flush… jack high." And he spread the seven, eight, nine, ten and jack of hearts on the table.

It was worth every minute of the past six hours to see the look in Pakenham's eyes. For a few seconds he was utterly confounded. It gave Heyes a fine warm feeling.

_And if you could say it out loud, you son of a bitch, right now you'd be saying, 'But that's not the hand I dealt you!'_

Across the table, Matheson gasped: Elwood muttered under his breath. Heyes heard their reactions, but kept his gaze fixed on Pakenham's face. He waited until the businessman finally lifted his eyes from the cards on the table. When Pakenham looked at Heyes there was no mistaking the emotion there. Sheer rage.

Heyes spoke quietly, not letting the other man get the first word in. "Well, Mr Pakenham… Looks like I win this hand." He kept his voice quiet, but didn't let his gaze flicker.

"I never saw anything like it…" Elwood was winding himself up to either indignation or disbelief; Heyes merely looked sideways at him – and the newspaperman subsided. Heyes held him with his eyes a moment, then shifted his gaze to Matheson. "I wouldn't have believed it my own self, if I hadn't seen it. But there you go." He rested his folded arms on the table: looked the piles of money over. "So I guess… All this is mine."

Reaching out, he drew the money to himself and stowed it away in his jacket pockets. Then he picked up the three pieces of paper remaining in the centre of the table. Taking his own two promissory notes, he slowly and deliberately tore them in half, before pocketing them with a small smile. Then he held up Pakenham's promissory note between two fingers; looked up at the businessman with the same small smile. "Well, Mr Pakenham… What say we settle up. I think I've played enough poker for one night."

Pakenham was still regarding Heyes with fury. At this mention of settling up, a muscle jumped in his jaw. With an effort, he said, "As Mr Matheson said, I'm good for it. You'll get your money."

"Well, it so happens that I'd like my money now." Heyes still held the slip of paper up between them. "I kinda think that I want to be moving on from Lawton. That being the case, I wouldn't want any unfinished business keeping me hanging around. You never know what might happen." His smile faded. "That is, unless you plan on welching on your bet."

"Just what are you implying, Smith!" Elwood tried to intervene on behalf of his patron. "Mr Pakenham here is an upstanding local citizen - "

"All right, Frank," said Pakenham swiftly, glancing at him. Returning his gaze to Heyes, he gave a short nod. "I never welched on a bet in my life, Mr Smith. And I don't plan on starting now. You want your money, you shall have it." He stood up from the table. "But I don't have enough cash on these premises to cover that amount. You'll have to step over to my office."

Heyes shrugged. "I don't mind how you get it. Just as long as it's in my hands before I leave town. And as it'll be dawn in a couple of hours… I guess I'll be riding out as soon as it's light. So let's get this done." He stood too.

Pakenham gave a brief nod to the two local men still sitting at the poker table, both of them still looking taken aback by the turn of events. "Jim, Frank, thank you both for playing. Tell Yates that the game's finished and he can clear away back here." He took a step to the door, then paused to add, "And tell him that I want Hampton to come see me as soon as he's fit to!"

Customers in the saloon beyond had thinned out considerably: only a few hardened carousers were still to be seen, slumped at tables. Pakenham strode through the stale-smelling room without even a sideways glance at Yates, who appeared to have been half-dozing at one end of the bar but lurched to his feet on seeing his employer. Heyes favoured him with a cheery smile, before following in Pakenham's wake.

The cool pre-dawn air struck on both men's faces as they gained the street outside. Pakenham set off at a fair clip, not looking back to see if Heyes was keeping up. Heyes took a moment to scan the surrounding street in both directions for any sign of Kid. There was no-one in view, although given that he'd asked his partner to lay low that was reassuring more than anything. Turning away he headed after the businessman, trusting that Kid would follow close behind.

Anger had evidently given Pakenham wings: the walk to his office took barely five minutes. Once they were there, Pakenham unlocked the door, then gestured at the open doorway. "After you, Mr Smith."

"Thank you." Heyes stepped inside, pausing until Pakenham also came in and closed the door, cutting off the faint light that had come from the street outside and plunging the room into blackness. Heyes heard the key turn in the door lock. Then the businessman, familiar with his own premises, moved effortlessly through the darkness. Heyes heard his footsteps crossing the floor: the scrape of something being moved, a quiet clunk. For the first time it occurred to Heyes that having Kid follow them meant that his partner was probably close behind in the street outside… _Outside_ being the operative word. And that he himself was now standing inside Pakenham's office, in the dark, with a man who was both angry and vengeful.

"Uh… You got a lamp handy in here?" Heyes softly took a step back towards the door he'd just come in through, feeling behind him in the blackness. His hand found the door handle, tried turning it. His ears hadn't deceived him: it was locked. And the key was not in the lock.

"Just hunting for a match, Mr Smith." Pakenham sounded oddly calm. Too calm for a man simmering with rage.

The hairs stood up on the back of Heyes' neck. Pakenham was only a few feet away, invisible in the darkness: Heyes could tell that, from where the man's voice had come from. Which meant that Pakenham could tell exactly where he was standing, too.


	26. Chapter 26

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Six**

The cold oiled _click_ of a gun being cocked didn't exactly come as a surprise. Heyes held his breath and tried stepping as silently as he could to one side. _Hell. This was not part of the plan._

Pakenham's voice came through the darkness. "It's no use tiptoeing over there, Smith. I can still hear you."

Heyes stood absolutely still. In that thoughtful part of his mind that never quite went away, he found himself speculating _Maybe if I rush him sudden in the dark he'll miss._ His heart had begun hammering behind his ribs, so hard he wondered crazily for a moment if Pakenham would hear it and have something to aim at.

"Stand still if you like." Pakenham sounded amused. "I know where you are. If I don't get you with the first shot, I'll get you with the second. Or the third. Or maybe all of them."

Staying silent until a bullet found him seemed like a poor option: Heyes decided he had nothing to lose by trying to talk Pakenham down. "And you figure someone won't hear you firing off all those shots, and come looking to see what the ruckus is?"

"I'm counting on it." Pakenham still spoke with quiet confidence. "And what they'll find is me lying struck down on the floor of my office, attacked by the criminal who tried to rob me when he saw just how much money I had in my office safe."

"That's quite a tale." Heyes swallowed, groping in the dark for anything within reach that might serve as a weapon. His fingers found nothing.

"Yes… I brought you over here in good faith, to pay off my poker debt… Which I fully intended to do, of course. But when you got a look inside my safe you were overcome with temptation and struck me down. Then you started rifling the safe, turning your back on me. But through pure luck I wasn't knocked out cold… So I was able to reach my gun, and turn it on you in self defence."

"And you think the sheriff will buy that story?" Heyes tried to picture Kid in the street outside, maybe standing close to the office door, wondering when he should make an entrance. _Right now would be good. Because in about half a minute I think I'm going to find out just how good a shot Pakenham is._

"Well, now… A law-abiding, upstanding local citizen, a victim of an attempted robbery by some no-account drifter who wandered into town? I don't think the sheriff will have too hard a time believing me." There was a low chuckle in the darkness. "You think you're the only man who can play a winning hand? You just ran out of luck, Mr Smith. And the winner takes all."

Heyes braced himself. _So much for us convincing Pakenham we were more dangerous than he is. I guess I underestimated just how bad a loser he was going to be._

The sound of a gun's hammer falling on an empty chamber cut through the darkness. It was followed in short order by three things: Heyes' breath catching in his throat; a grunt of surprise from Pakenham; and a third voice joining the conversation.

"The winner takes all… Now that all depends on who's still in the game."

There was a scrape of a match flaring into life, its small flame moving to touch and kindle the wick of a lamp. As the flame grew and light dispelled the darkness, it revealed Kid standing behind Pakenham, holding his own revolver levelled at the businessman with one hand and shaking out a match with the other. As Pakenham turned his head to stare at the intruder with an incredulous frown, Kid gave him a sardonic smile. "Hope nobody minds me bringing a little light into this business. I was getting kinda tired of standing in the dark, listening to our friend here." His eyes switched to Heyes. "And I figured maybe you'd heard about enough of what he had to say, too."

Heyes met his partner's eyes for just long enough to show his fervent gratitude – then looked at Pakenham. The businessman was still holding his revolver, but he had half lowered it. Kid gave him another menacing smile. "You might just as well lay that down, Pakenham. It ain't loaded. I made sure of that."

"You – what - " Pakenham was still frowning.

Kid shrugged. "You might say, I got a suspicious turn of mind. Mistrustful of folks I don't know real well. And I just got a notion that you might have a surprise back here for my friend Mr Smith, if he was to wind up coming over with you to collect his poker winnings. So I took a look inside your office, about an hour ago. And you know what? I was right. You did have a surprise, stowed away in your desk drawer." He held out his clenched hand, then opened it. "Six little surprises, as it turned out." The bullets from Pakenham's revolver lay in the palm of his hand.

Pakenham had gone pale. Slowly, he laid his useless gun on his desk behind him. "You broke into my office…" His voice had a shadow of his former wrath about it.

Kid shrugged. "Didn't break a thing. But that back door?" He gave a dismissive shake of his head. "You really oughta get a better lock fitted on it. Most anyone could just waltz in here."

Pakenham glared at Kid, then turned his angry gaze onto Heyes. "Just what the hell angle are you two playing?" he demanded, in a voice that revealed equal parts of disquiet and fury. "All I have to do is shout for help, and so help me I'll have the both of you in jail before daybreak - "

"Oh, don't do that, Mr Pakenham." Heyes spoke quietly but firmly. "Call in the sheriff now? You really want him in on this? Because if that's the way you want to play it, we can kick up a ruckus of our own. And I'm sure some of the things we'd have to tell the sheriff and anyone else who'd listen would cause as much trouble for you as for us."

"Such as?" Pakenham stared at Heyes.

"Such as the fact that you run a crooked poker game here in town every Saturday… With Hampton as your dealer making sure that you skin any out-of-town player out of every cent they put down. Not to mention, you've taken a tidy few dollars off the local men you invite to sit in on your games, too. Wonder how banker Matheson and friend Elwood would feel about that?"

"I reckon Elwood might relieve his feelings by writing something a little different in his next newspaper," commented Kid dryly. "Probably sell real well, too."

"Sure it would. Nothing folks like better than a successful man… Except seeing a successful man cast down. And reading all about it."

"In every last detail," added Kid.

Pakenham ground his teeth. "I say that my poker games are not crooked. And you can't prove otherwise."

Heyes grinned. "Pakenham… I know you were trying to double duke me in that last hand. I saw you get rid of Dumont that way. And you were so damn confident that nothing and no-one could touch you, here in your town, that you tried it again with me. You dealt me four of a kind, and yourself a straight flush. I don't know what you dealt Elwood to make him raise the stakes, but I'm guessing a full house or something like it. You were planning on suckering me in, making me think I had a hand that I pretty much couldn't lose with. You'd already worked out that I play poker more'n a little, but you weren't sure just how good I was. So you dealt me those jacks. I guess you thought I'd either cotton on to what you were doing, and fold; or that I'd think I was in with a chance and raise the stakes till you cleaned me out. Either way you'd be safe."

Pakenham gave a disbelieving shake of his head. "Like I said: you can't prove a thing."

"I don't need to." Heyes folded his arms and leaned back against the wall behind him. "All I had to do was make you think you were on to a sure thing. And put something up as a stake that I knew you would want to win so badly, you wouldn't be thinking maybe as clearly as you ought to have been."

He took the torn promissory notes out of his pocket. "You knew I was an unknown quantity, and that should have made you more careful. But as soon as I said I'd sign myself over to you to work out that debt – all you saw was a chance to have me under your thumb for a good long time." He gave the businessman another provoking smile. "When I said, _You'd be the boss_, I saw the look on your face. You couldn't wait to make me into another one of your servants. And two thousand dollars? That'd be two years, easy, I'd be bound to work for you." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "And I just wonder how many people you've got to work for you, that way. Wouldn't surprise me if ol' George Hampton is one of them. Wonder what kind of trouble he got into, that he wound up having to work as a tame dealer for you as his only way out."

Pakenham was silent for all of half a minute, evidently turning over everything Heyes had said. At last he spoke again. "Well, that's quite a fairy tale. You expect anyone to believe it?"

"People believe what they want to." Heyes gave him a wry smile. "But I get the feeling that there's probably more'n a few people in this town who'd believe the worst about you. And even if it didn't stick, I guess it'd spoil your chances of getting elected mayor any time soon."

Pakenham's jaw clenched. He regarded Heyes with loathing, his hands clenching into fists. At last he said, in controlled tones, "You said that I run a crooked poker game. But the only way you could've pulled that jack-high straight was by cheating yourself."

Heyes shrugged. "Like you said, Pakenham: you can't prove a thing. Not without admitting you dealt me a different hand in the first place."

Pakenham glared at his opponent for a few seconds longer… then let out an angry breath. "I don't know what game you two are working here – but if you plan on blackmailing me - "

"Did I say that?" Heyes looked innocent. "Blackmail's against the law. All I came over here for was to have you settle up your gambling debt with me. You're the one pulled a gun and started getting unfriendly."

"Your friend Jones here broke into my office!" exclaimed Pakenham.

Heyes shook his head just a little. "Why, you just heard him say, he didn't break a thing. I'll bet, if you were to check your office doors right now, there'd be no sign of any damage." His eyes switched to Kid briefly: Kid acknowledged this with a nod. "The way I'd tell it - if anyone was to ask - was that as we were walking down here we just happened to run into my friend Mr Jones, so he decided to come along with us." He smiled at the businessman. "All perfectly friendly."

"Then what in hell do you two want?" snarled Pakenham, apparently goaded beyond restraint.

"Just to settle a debt. And the good news for you is, it's not going to cost you as much as you thought. Which should cheer you up a little." At Pakenham's angry and baffled stare, Heyes smiled. "I'll keep your money from the poker table. But that other fifteen hundred dollars you owe me? We're gonna cut you a deal for that."

"What kind of a deal?" growled Pakenham.

"It's real simple." Heyes held the businessman with a steady gaze, still smiling. "You made a loan to a feller named Ned Reed, a few years back. When he died, his widow kept on repaying the loan to you. Now you're going to write that loan off… So that Mrs Reed doesn't owe you another dime."

There was a pause. Pakenham frowned at Heyes, apparently trying to work out what game was afoot now. "Why in hell would I do that?"

"To save yourself fifteen hundred dollars." Heyes' smile faded, leaving an infinitely more dangerous expression behind. "And a whole lot of trouble."

"You better not threaten me." Pakenham was clenching his fists again. "Bad things happen to men who cross me."

Kid quietly stepped up close beside the businessman, regarding him steadily: his revolver was back in its holster, but he lowered his hand close beside it. "Is that so." His voice was quiet.

Heyes kept his own gaze on Pakenham. "Bad things don't happen to us, Mr Pakenham. We're more in the line of being bad things that happen to other people."

There was a long pause, during which Pakenham looked from Kid's hand near his gun, back to Heyes' face. After several seconds had passed, he let out an explosive sigh of exasperation. "All right, damn it!" He dropped down into a chair, still staring angrily up at Heyes. "You want to deal, I'll deal."

"Now that's more like it." Heyes nodded encouragingly. "I knew you'd see it our way eventually. You're a good businessman, after all." Pakenham glowered at him. "Now I'm betting you've got the paperwork on that loan tucked away someplace safe here, along with all your other business papers. How about you look it out."

It took Pakenham some minutes of delving through bundles of documents in a strongbox, before he produced the record of Ned Reed's loan. Heyes took it from him and read through the papers carefully, frowning occasionally at particularly convoluted phrases in legalese. At last he nodded at Kid. "This is it, all right." He reached for the matches Kid had availed himself of earlier; struck one and held it to the corner of the papers. He let the flame curl up, holding the documents until they were well alight: then carefully dropped them into a brass spittoon in one corner of the office, where they burned away to grey ashes. He let out a short breath, then turned back to face the businessman. Pakenham was still regarding him angrily. Heyes smiled at him again. "Cheer up, Pakenham. You just saved yourself fifteen hundred dollars."

Kid eyed the businessman sceptically. "That's all well and good, burning it – but how do we know that he won't just have his clerk draw up new papers in the morning?"

"He'd have to get Mrs Reed to sign 'em," answered Heyes, frowning a little. "But that's a very good point, Thaddeus." He turned back to Pakenham. "There's just one more thing you need to do for us. Write a letter to Mrs Reed, explaining how your one of your clerks made a big mistake. You tell her that the loan was actually paid off a few months back, but because this clerk got his figuring wrong, nobody realised that till now. You write that as of today, her debt is no longer outstanding… And in point of fact, there's a little money owing her, from the last three payments she made. Which comes to - " He cocked an eyebrow expectantly at Pakenham.

The businessman ground his teeth. "A little under eighty dollars."

"Let's round it up. Say, an even hundred dollars, to make up for the mistake." Heyes gestured at the desk. "I'll let you put that into business-like words, Pakenham. But make sure that you don't miss out any of what I said. Then date it, and sign it."

The businessman reluctantly got down to work. He laboured over a sheet of foolscap for some time; when he was done he sat back. Heyes picked the paper up off the desk and read through it attentively. At last he looked up at Kid, a real smile coming to his face. "It's all there."

Pakenham spoke. "I'll have my clerk take it to the mail in the morning."

"Uh, no thank you." Heyes shook his head. "You just address an envelope to Mrs Reed and give that to me too, along with two fifty dollar bills. And we'll make sure she gets her letter, don't you worry." He waited while the businessman followed his instructions, then put the folded letter and money in the envelope and tucked it away inside his jacket pocket. Looking up, he gave Pakenham a nod. "We're square."

"Unless of course we hear about any kind of trouble for Mrs Reed," said Kid in meaningful tones. "In which case, you'll be seeing us again."

"There'll be no trouble," replied Pakenham, eyeing the two outlaws resentfully.

"There better not be," said Heyes. "We may not be passing through these parts for a while… But we know folks who'll tell us if anything happens to the Reeds. And if that happens, we'll be having another conversation. And it won't be anywhere near as friendly as this one."

Pakenham nodded sullenly. Heyes looked at his partner. "Seeing as how the front door's locked, I guess we might just as well head out the back way."

As they started to leave, Pakenham spoke again. "There's one thing I don't understand. How come you're so set on doing this for that Reed woman? You're not telling me you went to all this trouble, just out of the kindness of your hearts. What angle are you working here?"

Heyes and Kid paused: they exchanged a glance, then Heyes looked back to Pakenham consideringly. "Well, that's a good question, Mr Pakenham. Being as how we've already explained to you what kind of men we are… And you've rightly worked out, we're not in the habit of going around the country spreading kindness and good feelings. But the thing is, we owe Mrs Reed a debt. Never mind what… Let's just say, we owe her something. And this is just our way of paying the debt off. With some interest on top." He let a grin spread across his face. "Now I just know _that's_ something you'll understand."

-oooOOOooo-

The back door of Pakenham's office closed behind them, both men walking swiftly away down the dark street. They held their silence for a good minute or so: Heyes was the first to speak.

"Okay. How long were you sitting there in the dark, before you decided to put a word in?"

"Not long." Kid's reply was provokingly casual.

"You couldn't have struck that match _before_ Pakenham decided to pull the trigger?"

"Heyes… I made sure his gun wasn't loaded, remember?"

"Yeah. But _I_ didn't know that." Heyes sounded exasperated. "That near about took years off my life, hearing that hammer fall."

"The trouble with you is, you just don't know when to be grateful. You given any thought to what would have happened if I hadn't got in there earlier and emptied Pakenham's gun?"

"I gave it plenty of thought while I was standing there in the dark, listening to him get ready to shoot me." Heyes took a deep breath. "How is it you _did_ head over there, anyway? I told you to keep watch on the saloon."

"Oh, I watched it for a while. Then I got to thinking, if I was a crook as big as Pakenham, what kind of precautions would I take to keep my office safe and secure… And then I thought I'd just slip over there and have a little look around. I figured you'd probably still be playing poker for a while." Kid paused. "You telling me you'd rather I hadn't done that?"

There was a considering silence. At last, Heyes said, "Kid, you know when I said I could rely on you to watch my back?"

"Yeah?"

"I should've said something else."

"What?"

"Thanks." It was too dark to see properly, but from the sound of Heyes' voice, Kid could tell that his partner was smiling.

They were now walking down main street. Heyes felt his partner lay a hand on his arm, drawing him to a halt. "Where are we heading?" Kid asked.

"Back to the hotel, to get our stuff. Then out of here."

"First let's get some breakfast. It'll be sun-up soon."

"You want to eat breakfast here in town?" Heyes sounded incredulous. "With Pakenham madder than a stirred-up hornet's nest?"

There was a pause as Kid considered. Then he spoke again. "Breakfast can wait."

-oooOOOooo-

It took little time to collect their belongings from their hotel room, and head on over to the livery stable where a yawning stable hand grudgingly brought their horses and gear. Mounting up, they rode down the main street. They had only been riding a few seconds when Kid was surprised by Heyes slowing down, directing his horse in the direction of the saloon where he'd spent the night playing poker. As Heyes halted outside the building and dismounted, Kid leaned over his horse's neck. "Just what are you planning to do here? You're not aiming to fool with Pakenham any more, are you?"

"No." Heyes looped his reins around a hitching post and gave his partner a quick grin. "Just leaving a message here for someone. I'll only be a minute." With that he headed into the building, leaving Kid sitting puzzled on his horse outside.

In fact only half a minute had passed before Heyes reappeared, smiling to himself. He loosed his horse and remounted, turning into the roadway and starting off again down the street. Kid fell in beside him, regarding his friend narrowly. "Now what was all that about?"

"Nothing much. Little bit of unfinished business." Heyes looked at Kid. "Tell you about it later."

The sun had risen but was still low in the sky when the two outlaws turned onto the road that led out of Lawton. By unspoken agreement they both kept up a good pace for the first couple of hours, leaving the town well behind before they slowed down.

Kid looked over at Heyes. His friend was gazing ahead down the road, holding the reins with one hand: as Kid watched, Heyes gave way to a mighty yawn, then rubbed his free hand over his face. As if sensing his friend's attention, he glanced over at him. Kid smiled. "Been one hell of a night."

"Yeah." Another yawn surfaced. When it subsided, Heyes blinked. "I sure could use a cup of coffee."

Kid eyed his friend. There were shadows under Heyes' eyes: the way he was sitting in his saddle conveyed the weariness caused by his sleepless night of poker playing. "It should only take us a couple of hours to ride out to the Reeds' place. You reckon you can hold out that long, or do you want us to pull up somewhere and make a fire?"

"No." Heyes yawned a third time, then shook his head to clear it. "Let's keep moving. If I stop riding and sit down for any amount of time, I'm gonna fall asleep, coffee or no coffee."

With their early start it was only late morning when the two outlaws rode into sight of the Reeds' farm. As they drew closer they could see Ginny beside the house, seeing to the chickens. Within a minute or two the girl evidently heard the sound of the horses' hooves: she turned to look at the track. Instantly she straightened up, gazing at the two approaching men – then ran out of the chicken pen, pail swinging in her hand, towards the house. "Ma! Ma! It's Mr Jones and Mr Smith! They're back!"

As the two men rode into the yard Mrs Reed appeared on the house porch, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Ginny waited at the bottom of the porch steps, her face beaming; from the barn Will appeared, letting out a yell in welcome and running up to meet the two outlaws.

Both Heyes and Kid smiled in greeting at the family as they dismounted, letting Will take their horses' reins. Kid slapped Will on the shoulder and Heyes gave him a friendly grin. "That's quite a welcome."

"I said you'd be back 'fore this afternoon, and I was right!" crowed Will.

"It's good to see you boys again," said Mrs Reed, favouring them with a rare smile of her own. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it back before nightfall."

"Well, ma'am: we pretty much finished up what we had to do and didn't have nothing to keep us in town," answered Heyes. "So we both figured we might as well set off early, while it was still cool for travelling."

"Did you find work?" Mrs Reed asked.

Kid and Heyes exchanged a brief glance, before Heyes spoke again. "Well, we struck it lucky, I guess. Heard about a job that's comin' up, work for the two of us. We got paid an advance for expenses to get us to where the work is. So we'll head on out there, day after tomorrow."

Mrs Reed regarded him steadily. Heyes had an uncomfortable sense that his white lies were proving see-through. However, after a second or two of silence, Mrs Reed merely nodded. "I'm glad to hear it, boys. I suppose the fact that you're willing to travel to where the job is must be working in your favour."

"Yes, ma'am." Heyes and Kid both nodded, not attempting any further explanation.

Mrs Reed glanced at her children. "Ginny, you best finish tending those hens or we'll have no eggs tomorrow. And Will, you go put up the horses. Both of you finish your chores and we'll eat lunch early." She looked at the two outlaws. "I'm guessing that you must have set out from Lawton at daybreak. You'll be plenty hungry."

"Yes, ma'am." Kid's affirmation was prompt.

"Well, you know where everything is. Plenty of time to wash up before lunch."

-oooOOOooo-

A little under half an hour later, both men were sharing a mirror and a basin of water in the little back bedroom, as they shaved and got cleaned up. Heyes finished before Kid, wiping his face with a towel and picking up a clean shirt from where he'd laid it on the bed. He drew it on and began buttoning up, watching Kid finish shaving. "You missed a spot."

"Mhm." Kid slid the razor carefully over the angle of his jaw, then inspected himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he rinsed the razor in the basin and began drying his own face. "That feels a whole lot better."

"Yeah." Heyes sat down on the bed, running his gaze over the room. "You know, it might sound funny, given how much time I had to spend lying in here and all… But I think I'm going to miss this place."

Kid turned around, picking up his own clean shirt and sliding his arms into it. "Don't sound funny at all. I'm gonna miss it too. Not just the place, either."

Heyes turned his gaze onto his friend, consideringly. Kid held his look for a moment – then shrugged, half turning away. "Just saying, is all. They're a real nice family. Treated us like kin."

"Yeah." Heyes watched his friend for a little longer, but Kid was still avoiding his eyes. "But it's time to move on."

"I know it." Kid was buttoning up his shirt with slightly more attention than was strictly called for. "No reason to stick around here."

Heyes opened his mouth as if to say something; then paused, pursed his lips, and held his peace. Kid finished dressing, then turned back to his friend. "Okay. Let's go eat."

Lunch was something of a celebration, and with the appetites both men had worked up the meal passed swiftly. Kid finally pushed his empty plate away with a sigh. "Ma'am, any time you reckoned on giving up the farming life and opening up a restaurant in town - you'd have folks queuing clear down the street for a taste of your food."

"Landsakes, Mr Jones… It's just plain home cooking. Likely you're just hungry enough to enjoy it." Mrs Reed rose and began to clear dishes away. "All the same, I thank you for the compliment."

Heyes smiled at her as she took his plate. "And we ought to earn our keep. What needs doing this afternoon, round the farm? We're only here a little longer, but you can still put us to work."

"There's not much to see to. Ginny and Will can finish off what needs doing; they won't need any help." At this pronouncement, both children looked at their mother with pleading expressions. "Now don't you put those hang-dog looks on me. You've seen to the animals, there's only the vegetable garden to water and then you can do what you please."

"Yes, ma." Sister and brother chorused in reluctant obedience before sliding off their chairs and hastening out of the kitchen, the sooner to get outside and get their work done.

Mrs Reed cast a keen eye over Heyes and Kid. "You two can just consider yourselves company for the rest of your time here. Sit a spell on the porch, if you've a mind to: or take a wander up the pasture, if you want to get away from those two young 'uns of mine… For I'm sure they'll both be pestering you half to death, the minute they've finished their chores." Her gaze seemed to assess them both. "Or have a siesta. You both look to me like you were burning the candle at both ends while you were in town. I've a notion what kind of things young men get up to in Lawton, and I'm sure it doesn't include going to bed at a respectable hour."

Heyes and Kid exchanged glances. Then gave Mrs Reed sheepish smiles. "Yes, ma'am."

Out on the shady porch, sitting with the breeze blowing over them, both men found it all too easy to follow Mrs Reed's recommendation. Kid rested his head back against his folded hands, letting his eyes travel over the sights of the little yard and house… And on to where his partner sat. Heyes had taken up a characteristic pose: sitting easily in his chair, feet stretched up to rest on the porch railing, hands resting in his lap. His eyes were already closed.

Kid smiled. "Heyes… You asleep?"

"Nope. But I plan to be, pretty soon."

"How long you figure that'll last, once Ginny and Will come back?"

"I'll risk it." Heyes let out a huge yawn, without opening his eyes, then settled his shoulders a little more comfortably back against his chair. "Mhmm… Fine warm afternoon and nothing to do 'cept sit here and relax. This must be what being rich feels like." A small smile quirked up one corner of his mouth. "I could get used to this."

Kid smiled too. "Maybe not. Maybe if you were rich you'd be worryin' about how to hold on to all your money. Probably keep you awake at nights."

"Oh, sure." Heyes yawned again, contentedly. "Fretting over how all kinds of crooked types were just scheming to take it away from you."

"Men who'd steal your money by robbing banks…"

"And railroads…" Heyes' smile had broadened to a grin: he opened one eye to give his friend a sidelong glance. "Real desperate outlaws."

Kid laughed. "Being a rich man doesn't sound like much fun at all."

"Yeah, well… I can think of one rich man not so far away who's not as happy as he was a day ago."

"Well, he is less rich than he was a day ago," Kid said logically.

"Yeah." Heyes sounded deeply satisfied. "It feels like it was worth losing a little sleep over."

"You won't get any argument from me."

"Good. 'Cos I plan on going to sleep now."

"Even if the kids come along?"

"Even if a tornado comes along. If it comes real close, you can try waking me up." Heyes had gotten a determined expression on his face, both eyes firmly shut again. "Otherwise… I'm going to sleep till suppertime. Then I'm going to eat supper. Then I'm going to sleep some more."

-oooOOOooo-

As it turned out, Heyes' plans came to fruition. Ginny and Will, possibly intercepted by their mother, gave the porch a wide berth for the rest of the day. Both men spent a blissful few hours dozing in the shade until the evening meal. After supper they joined the family for an hour or so outdoors in the cool of the evening, exchanging quiet conversation.

Will and Ginny's curiosity about where the two men were riding off to next and what they were going to do proved somewhat difficult to manage. Both outlaws felt reluctant to tell increasingly elaborate falsehoods to the family: Kid let his partner do most of the talking, but he could sense that even Heyes was getting uncomfortable with having to maintain the fiction of their fortuitous jobs elsewhere. He and Heyes had privately agreed to settle on a cover story of being called in as trackers and hunters to clear out mountain lions and other predators from a large ranch about fifty miles away, as it was work they had both done before, and could sound fairly convincing about. But as Will came back with his umpteenth question, Kid could see that even Heyes' inventiveness was starting to flag.

"But s'pose you was hunting a mountain lion and it was going over rocky ground, and it wasn't leaving any tracks – how'd you find it then?" Will fixed Heyes with an eager look.

"Well, even over rocky ground you'd probably find some signs," said Heyes. "A scrape marking its trail, or some scat. Maybe bones and hide from one of its kills. Or you'd check out any waterholes or streams roundabout, see if you could spot any prints in any soft ground along the edges. There's usually something, if you look hard enough."

"What about if you didn't find anything, but the mountain lion was there anyways?" Will spoke with bated breath. "Maybe if it was just sitting somewheres watching you, and you didn't know it! Pa always used to say that they was real smart, that they hide out up a tree or on a bluff and wait for a deer or somethin' to pass by underneath, and then leap straight down on to 'em. If you didn't know one was hiding, couldn't it just jump right out onto you?"

"Oh… That'd be real unlikely," said Heyes in a confident tone. Beside him on the porch, Kid turned his head slightly, giving his partner a sidelong look. One corner of his mouth hitched up in a slow smile. Heyes met the look and paused; he appeared to rethink his next words before continuing. "Anyway… Me and Thaddeus'll be watching out for each other. We'll be safe enough."

"But what if - " Will appeared to have no limit to his dire predictions, but his mother forestalled further questions, leaning forward to tap her son gently on the top of his head.

"Will, I'm sure Mr Smith and Mr Jones have had quite enough of your fearsome imaginings. You and your sister go get ready for bed now."

Both children rose reluctantly and headed inside, leaving the adults on the porch. Mrs Reed shook her head at the two men. "I'm sorry about that boy of mine. Once he gets an idea into his head, he's like a snapping turtle: he won't let go till it thunders."

Both men smiled. Heyes shrugged. "He's persistent. Not a bad thing to be."

"He just needs to learn that folks aren't always as ready to answer questions, as he is to ask them."

Kid spoke up. "You got yourself two bright young 'uns, Mrs Reed. Guess they're bound to be curious about things."

"I thank you for saying so. Truth is, they're getting to be of an age where I'm fixed sometimes to answer rightly what they want to know. My schooling ended when I was little younger than Ginny is now. Asa can keep up, when they get to firing questions at him. I'm grateful to him, but I just hope it doesn't tax his patience overmuch."

"Don't think that's likely," said Kid.

"We liable to see Asa, before we head off on Monday morning?" asked Heyes.

"He did say he would come by tomorrow, sometime round late afternoon. I was planning to fix us all a good supper, give you boys a proper send-off." Mrs Reed folded the mending she'd been working on neatly into her workbasket by her feet, then rose. "I best get those children of mine settled down. You boys bring the lamp in with you when you come. Goodnight, now."

"Goodnight, ma'am."

After the door had closed behind Mrs Reed, Kid waited for a minute or so. Then he spoke to his friend. "What're you thinking? You reckon we should tell Asa what we did?"

Heyes frowned slightly. "Well… We're going to need to leave that letter with him, for Mrs Reed. We'll have to tell him something."

"Yeah, but how much?"

"I don't know, Kid. Think we'll just have to feel our way. Tell him what the letter is, to start off with. Then if he wants to know how we got it…" He shrugged. "I guess we could tell him the truth. That I beat Pakenham at poker, and we got him to write off Mrs Reed's debt as part of the payment. Because I'm guessing word'll get round somehow, about Pakenham losing the game. I'll bet it doesn't happen too often, so a few folks in town might get to talking about it. I've got a notion that even if we don't tell Asa, if he hears about the poker game he'll put two and two together. And I'd rather not try spinning him some kind of tale. I'm pretty sure he'd see through it."

"I think you're right."

"Anyway, I'm already feeling bad enough about selling this story to the Reeds of us going off chasing mountain lions."

Kid regarded his friend: the slight frown was still drawing his brows together. "Well, you were sounding pretty convincing."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

Kid didn't know what to say to that. His own feelings about the deception they were practicing on the family were pretty uncomfortable too. After a long silence, he said quietly, "Maybe one day… After we get the amnesty… We can come back this way again. Tell them who we really are."

"Maybe." Heyes gazed out into the darkness of the yard. "One day."


	27. Chapter 27

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Seven**

The following day passed all too quickly, with Mrs Reed remaining firm in her edict that Kid and Heyes should consider themselves strictly as company during their final time at the farm. The two men found themselves with unaccustomed leisure time – but once Ginny and Will had finished their chores the children were quick to recruit them into a round of activity that started with walking to the river, progressed into skipping stones and wading, and finished up with a comfortable couple of hours simply watching the water flow by.

The afternoon sun had relaxed Kid to the point of near-sleep: he had propped his hat over his eyes and let the giggles and splashing of the two children still fooling around in the water fade away to a pleasant background buzz. He was close enough to slumber that when a hand tapped his shoulder he surfaced with a startled grunt, lifting his head so that his hat rolled off.

Heyes was crouched beside him: a grin came onto his face as he looked down at Kid's slightly disgruntled expression. "Sorry. Didn't figure you were all the way asleep."

Kid pushed himself all the way up to sitting, rubbed a hand through his hair and picked up his hat. "It time we were heading back?"

"Reckon so." Heyes nodded at the two children, still knee-deep in the river. "Hate to break it to those two, though. I guess they'd stay in there till nightfall if they got half a chance."

Ginny was standing a few feet from the bank, her skirts hitched up as she picked her way slowly along, gazing downwards. Every now and then she stopped and bent to reach into the water, picking out a stone from the river bottom to examine more closely. Beyond her, almost in mid-stream, Will stood with bent knees staring at the current, hands hovering over the water. As both men watched they saw Will suddenly lunge at the water, as if grabbing for something. But his hands came up empty: a momentary expression of frustration crossed his face, then he bent to watch the river again.

Getting to his feet, Heyes gave a loud whistle: both children looked around. Heyes beckoned from the bank. "C'mon. I reckon your ma'll be looking for us to be heading back about now."

Kid also stood up, watching as sister and brother negotiated the edge of the river and clambered out. Will started to slip: Kid caught his elbow and helped him to his feet. "Don't go pitching in backwards. I'm pretty sure you going swimming with all your clothes on isn't what your ma had in mind when she said you could come on down here."

"He might as well go swimming. He's wet through," observed Ginny critically, shaking out her dress from where she'd hitched up her skirts.

"It's only water," rejoined Will, unsuccessfully trying to wring out his shirt sleeves.

"What were you about in there, anyway?" asked Heyes. "You looked like a grizzly hunting for salmon."

"That's what I was doing!" exclaimed Will, grinning. "Trying to see if I could catch a fish just using my hands!"

"Now that's why folks invented fishing lines, Will," said Kid. "So's a feller could sit in the dry while he was about it."

"I just wanted to see if I could do it," explained Will. "I could get near about close enough to touch one of 'em – but every time, they just swum off as soon as I touched the water."

"You'll never get one that way," Kid told him. "You've got to sneak up on them, quiet like."

"How?" Will paused in pulling his shoes onto his wet feet, regarding Kid intently.

"You find a fish that's nice and calm, sitting in the water all on its lonesome, maybe with just its tail sticking out from under a rock. Then you put your hand up to it real… slow…" Kid demonstrated as he spoke. "You put just a finger on it, real gentle, and you tickle that fish. You start out tickling its tail, then you work your hand up along its body, just keeping on tickling and stroking it all the while. Sooner or later, that fish'll just let you put your hand right up near its head, while it lays there in the water like its half asleep – and that's when you can catch ahold and flick it out on the riverbank."

"Oh…" Will's eyes kindled with enthusiasm. "I'll bet I could do that - " He started to pull his shoes off, but was forestalled by his sister.

"We ain't got time for you to start fooling around in there again! Hustle up, or ma'll be mad if we get back late."

As the party started off back homewards, Will asked Kid, "Did you catch any fish that way, your own self?"

"Yep." Kid smiled down at the boy. "Worked pretty well, too. Once I got the hang of it."

"I'm gonna try it." Determination infused Will's expression. "Next time I go down there."

"Just make sure you don't go on your own," cautioned Kid. "You make sure you take your sister with you, if you're planning on fooling about in the river."

"Yessir." Will's assent had a man-to-man seriousness about it.

-oooOOOooo-

When they came into the yard and in sight of the house, both children let out a shout of "Asa!" and broke into a run. Over on the house porch, the healer was sitting in the shade: he raised one arm in greeting, to which Heyes and Kid responded in similar fashion.

The house door creaked open as the two outlaws followed the children up onto the porch, and Mrs Reed came out. "I thought I heard a clamour out here. Children, you give Asa some air. Lord save us, look at the state of your clothes… Will Reed, did you have to bring half of God's creation back with you on the seat of your britches? Go and get washed up now, the both of you; it'll be suppertime before long." She shooed her offspring into the house, following them inside to ensure that they carried out her command.

"Good to see you, boys," said Asa, reaching up to shake hands with the two outlaws and give each a smile. "Hannah was telling me you were lucky enough to find work, while you were in Lawton. We'll be sorry to see you go, but it's good news that you'll have jobs to go to."

"Thank you," responded Heyes, as he and Kid sat down beside the older man. "We hate to go… But it's time for us to be moving on."

Asa nodded. "Well, you can go where the opportunities are, when you're young. I roved around a fair amount myself, before the war. Sometimes spent months at a stretch on my own, riding in the hills… or trapping in the backwoods. Saw some right pretty parts of the country. Wild and lonesome, but I liked it. Almost every day I'd see something that fair took my breath away." He smiled. "It was a hard way to live, but I'm glad I did it. Got me a whole bundle of memories, stored away. It does me good, when the weather closes in come wintertime. I just hole up near the stove and cast my mind back to some wild place, and I can wander in my mind there a good long while till I don't hear the wind blowing cold round the eaves any more."

"Sounds like a pretty good way to spend the winter," said Kid.

Asa looked at him. "Well, for an old man, anyway. You youngsters'll likely be wanting to spend your time somewhere a little more lively. You figure your next job'll last you through to spring? Or will you have to move on in a month or two?"

Kid and Heyes exchanged a thoughtful look. Heyes turned back to Asa, giving him a smile. "Well, I guess we don't know, right now. We'll have to see how things pan out. Usually, we don't find ourselves staying in any place for too long." He shrugged. "Guess we're just not the type to settle down easy."

"Well, I reckon a man needs something to settle down for," observed Asa. "Whether that's getting himself some land, or a family… Or both."

The door to the house creaked open as Ginny stepped out onto the porch. "Ma says supper's ready."

"Thank you, Ginny," said Asa, as all three men got to their feet. Heading inside, the old healer let one more comment fall. "And that's a third thing that inclines a man to settle down somewhere… Finding good friends and neighbours. I'm lucky enough to have both."

-oooOOOooo-

After supper, the Reeds and their guests settled out on the porch for a last summer evening together. Asa brought out a selection of tales from his many years of travelling and healing; some with ridiculous characters or happenings that had Ginny and Will giggling helplessly, others that told of lessons learned from singular people that he'd encountered: a blind fiddle player who travelled the country playing at weddings, accompanied only by a mongrel hound dog who was his constant companion and guide; a Paiute healer who had shared some of her cures and plant lore; a brilliant but wild army surgeon with a habit of playing wicked practical jokes on his brother officers. As the night drew on Asa's stock of narratives appeared to be inexhaustible… Unlike Will and Ginny, whose yawns at last became too frequent for their mother not to notice them. As Asa drew another of his stories to a close, Mrs Reed sat forward in her chair. "All right, children. That was the last one. Off to bed the both of you go – it's way past midnight."

Both children immediately protested, sitting up straighter from where they'd started to lean against chairs and blinking their eyes wide awake. "Oh please, ma – just one more story!" begged Ginny.

"I ain't tired!" protested Will – then had to pause as a mighty yawn took him over.

"Now don't get to arguing with me. I've let you stay up later than I should, on account of it being Thaddeus and Joshua's last night with us, but if you don't get to sleep there'll be no waking you in the morning. Mind me, now."

"Yes, ma." Brother and sister chorused in reluctant compliance, slowly getting to their feet. "G'night, Asa. G'night, Thaddeus. G'night, Joshua."

"Good night." The outlaws and Asa smiled at the children as they slowly moved from the porch to the house door. "Sleep well."

"Little chance of that," commented Mrs Reed with a dry smile, as her offspring disappeared inside. "You'll have got them so fired up with your tall tales, it'll be a miracle if they're not whispering to one another and fidgeting about till dawn."

"Well, it doesn't hurt once in a while," said Asa. "And I daresay they'll sleep the better for it tomorrow night."

"I'll hold you to that, Asa Lee," said Mrs Reed. She paused for a moment, listening for sounds from inside the house. "I'll give them a minute or two… Then I'd best go and see what they're about. I wouldn't put it past that boy of mine to fall asleep still wearing his clothes. He's done it more than once, when he's been tuckered out."

Asa reached into his jacket and took out his pipe; began filling it with tobacco. "He's growing fast. Every time I see him he looks to be half an inch taller."

"I just wish he'd grow an ounce more sense, while he's at it. His sister keeps him from trouble most of the time, but he's such a scatterbrain."

"He'll settle down," Asa reassured her. "I do see Ned in him, now he's growing up."

"He was right handy with mending fence, and helping us to fix the barn roof." Kid spoke up too. "Ginny's a hard worker too. I'd say they're a credit to you, ma'am."

"Well, I thank you both for saying so," said Mrs Reed. "Never a day goes by when I don't wish Ned was here to see them growing up… But it helps some to think that he'd be proud to see how they're turning out." There was a short pause, then she added, "And having you boys staying here and working about the place, these past few weeks… I want to thank you, not just for the work you've done but for how kindly you've been with the children. I know they'll be as sulky as a pair of broody hens after you've gone."

Heyes laughed. "Ma'am… I hope for your sake and theirs that's not the case. But I know I'm speaking for Thaddeus and me both, when I say we've enjoyed their company."

"Thank you, Joshua." A smile lightened Mrs Reed's face; then she gave another glance behind her, at the house door. "I think I better go and settle them down. You all can sit out here as long as you've a mind to. Asa, I've made you up a bed for when you're ready to turn in."

"Thank you, Hannah."

The house door creaked to behind Mrs Reed as she softly stepped inside. They heard her footfalls moving into the house, then there was a stillness for a while.

Some minutes passed with only night sounds, the candle lantern on the porch rail beside them flickering from occasional gentle breaths of breeze. At last Kid saw Heyes stir slightly in his chair, sitting forward. Quietly, his partner spoke up. "Asa… You remember that conversation we had, a few nights back?" After a second or two, he added, "When you told us about that… problem that Mrs Reed had, with Thomas Pakenham?"

Asa replied in equally quiet tones. "I do recall it. What makes you bring it up again?"

"Well…" Heyes paused, as if pondering how to word what he had to say. "How'd it be, if we told you that Mrs Reed didn't have to worry any more about paying off that loan?"

"Son, you take the most roundabout way of telling a body something. I'm an old man and I'd surely appreciate it if you'd quit beating the devil round the stump and come out with whatever it is you're trying to say."

Heyes took the envelope he'd carried with him back from Lawton out of his jacket pocket, and held it out to Asa. The old man looked at it without taking it. "What might that be?"

"It's a letter for Mrs Reed, from Pakenham. Telling her that one of Pakenham's clerks made a mistake: her loan was paid off in full, three months back. And now Pakenham's found out, he's putting it right."

Asa still made no move to take the envelope. "A letter?"

"Yeah. And some money, owing to Mrs Reed from the last three payments she made. A hundred dollars."

"And how is it you come to be bringing that letter back here with you?"

"We got to talking with a few folks in town while we were looking for work. Word got round that we were headed back here, I guess. So Pakenham asked us to deliver the letter for him. Figured he'd save himself the trouble of sending it." Heyes still held the envelope out to the healer.

Asa took his pipe out of his mouth. "Joshua, either you figure I'm getting addle-pated in my dotage, or there's a whole lot of in-between you just left out of that explanation."

"Well, there is a little more to it."

"I'll bet. Starting with how exactly it is that Thomas Pakenham turns so generous, all of a sudden. Because I have a pretty fair idea of how much of that loan was still outstanding, or at least I did a couple of years or so back. And I know that it'd be mighty unlikely Hannah could have paid it off by now. So suppose you just start over."

"All right." Heyes took a deep breath. "But first you've got to promise that this stays between the three of us. Mrs Reed doesn't get to hear of it."

"I can't promise that till I hear what you've got to say." Asa's tone was flinty.

"Okay." Heyes exchanged a glance with Kid, then looked back at the healer. "Truth is, we didn't just go into Lawton to look for work. We also wound up playing poker… with Pakenham and some of his friends."

"I've heard about his poker games." Asa's voice was still less than warm. "Would have thought you boys had more sense than to sit down at one of them."

"Well, as it happens, we got a little lucky," said Heyes. "We beat him. And he'd bet a pretty big stake. Big enough that we were able to make a deal with him, for some of that bet… that he would write off Mrs Reed's debt."

"Which he agreed to," chipped in Kid. "After all, he was saving himself some money."

"So he gave us this letter for Mrs Reed. And the hundred dollars," said Heyes. "We came up with the notion that he could explain it by saying that his clerk had made a mistake, so Mrs Reed wouldn't question too much what had happened. That's why we need to give the letter to you: so you can give it to Mrs Reed in a couple of weeks' time, tell her you've been in to Lawton to get supplies and were given it by Pakenham to deliver because he knows you're Mrs Reed's neighbour."

"You want me to lie to Hannah?" asked Asa slowly.

Heyes let a slow breath out. "Asa… We owe Mrs Reed. Hell, I wouldn't be here now if she hadn't let us into her home. And when we found out about the money trouble she was in, we thought there was something we could do about it. So we did it." He lifted the envelope he was still holding in his hand. "We know full well that she would never let us do this, if she knew the truth of it. Especially knowing how we came to make the deal. Which is why we had to do it this way. All we're asking is for you to help us out, just a little. And then she and Ginny and Will can be free of the debt that's been hanging over them all these years. That's what we want. Don't you want that too?"

There was a long silence. At last Asa stirred in his chair – then reached out and took the envelope from Heyes' fingers. Heyes smiled with relief; beside him, Kid let out the breath he'd been holding.

"Thank you - " Heyes' gratitude was interrupted by Asa.

"Before you get to thanking me, there's a few things we better get clear on." The older man fixed both outlaws with a steady gaze. "I figured it was pretty unlikely that that loan could have been paid off so quick. What do you boys think Hannah is going to make of it? I'll bet she knew how much she owed Pakenham, to the last dime. I reckon she'll find this story of one of Pakenham's clerks making a mistake hard to swallow."

"Well, that's where you come in, Asa," said Heyes with a half shrug. "She may find that letter a little unaccountable… But you tell it right, I think she'll believe you. And she'll want to believe you. Because that letter means she and her children can breathe easy for the first time in years."

Asa turned the letter over in his hands, his brows knitted together. "I don't like the idea of being untruthful to Hannah. She trusts me. And I promised her, after that time I went to try to talk to Pakenham, that I wouldn't butt into her business ever again."

"Asa, if there was any other way of doing this, we wouldn't be asking you what we're asking you." Kid spoke up too, trying to convince the older man. "But this is the only way. We just want to help the Reeds. And you're probably the only person can pull this off: because she does trust you."

There was a long pause. At last, Asa opened his jacket and slid the letter into an inner pocket. That done, he sat back in his chair and struck a match, holding it to his pipe and drawing on it until smoke rose from it again. He made no further comment.

Once the silence had stretched for quite some time, Heyes felt obliged to speak. "We're sorry we had to go about it this way, Asa. If we could've figured out any way to do it above-board and open - "

"Son, you need to learn when to let a thing drop," Asa interrupted him quietly but with finality. "I'll do what needs to be done. And I understand full well, what you've both done for Hannah and Ginny and Will. I know you mean it in the right way. I'll have to square not being truthful to Hannah with my conscience, but that's my business. It shouldn't ruffle me overmuch, when I set it against how much easier Hannah and her children will live without that debt hanging over them."

Kid exchanged a look with his partner: after a second or two, Heyes sat back in his chair without saying another word. Asa drew on his pipe quietly, casting his own gaze out over the porch railing, into the night.

-oooOOOooo-

After their conversation with Asa, both outlaws soon found it easier to retire to bed than share a somewhat uncomfortable silence on the porch with the old healer. Once the bedroom door was closed behind them and they were pulling off their boots, Kid spoke first. "You reckon he's mad at us?"

"Probably. I guess I would be, in his place." Heyes shrugged as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Y'know, one time it'd be real nice if we could do something without having to dance around the truth." Kid slung one of his boots moodily onto the floor.

Heyes looked across at him. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing." Kid dropped his other boot. "Just, how we made Asa feel back there… It's one thing us lying about stuff, we do it all the time. But it's something else when we make honest folks do it too."

Heyes moved to his bed on the floor, sitting down slowly on it cross-legged but regarding his friend. "That what you think? That we lie about stuff, all the time?"

Kid let out a mirthless snort of laughter. "C'mon, Heyes. Even the names we go by ain't our own. Every time we have a conversation with someone that doesn't know who we really are, it's not too long before we have to trot out some damn story or other."

"If we didn't do that, things'd get pretty interesting real quick," Heyes remarked.

"I know it."

"Preacher always used to say, a man can get himself hung quicker by the truth than by any lie ever told." Heyes tried smiling at his friend, to see if it would lighten his mood. "So unless you figure on us learning Spanish, I guess we'll have to go on telling those stories for a little while longer."

"Yeah. But like I said: making other folks do it, that's a whole 'nother thing."

"I don't think we made Asa do anything. I think he made a choice." Heyes pulled back his blanket and lay down. "And I don't plan on worrying about it, now it's done. What matters is that the Reeds are out from under Pakenham's thumb. How we did it, is nobody's business but ours."

Kid too lay down on his bed, blowing out the candle lantern as he did so. He made no answer to his friend's assertion. Sometimes it seemed like Heyes was so certain about things that he didn't need Kid to agree with him. But this time Kid wasn't sure who Heyes was trying to convince. Just his friend… or himself as well.


	28. Chapter 28

**One Good Turn – Chapter Twenty Eight**

The next morning both men rose early for a last breakfast with the Reeds and Asa. The old healer was leaving before they were, getting an early start on his calls to neighbours further afield. He bade Hannah and Ginny and Will goodbye at the house, before saying to Kid and Heyes, "You boys want to take a walk over to the barn with me, while I saddle up Wodi?"

Taking this as a hint that the older man wanted to speak a last word to them out of earshot of the family, Heyes and Kid followed him across the yard. In the shade inside the barn, they stood while Asa fitted his gear onto the pinto horse. Once he was ready, the old healer turned and held out his hand to each of them in turn. "I'll say goodbye, boys." They shook. "And I'll say another thing, too. I got to fretting last night, after I turned in. That maybe I was a little too hard on you both, with what I said." He held them with a level gaze. "So I wanted to tell you, before we parted ways this morning: what you've done for Hannah and her children is a fine thing. I should've said that right off… But I'm saying it now. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for what the two of you have done for them."

Heyes and Kid exchanged a look, then turned to smile at Asa. "Well… Like we said last night, we owe Mrs Reed," said Heyes. "This is just our way of settling up."

Asa gave a slow nod. "Surely. I'm just sorry she won't ever know who to thank for it." He reached out to Wodi and gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck. "There is just one other thing."

"What?"

Asa's gaze rested on both of them, steadily. "I get the feeling that there's still something the two of you aren't levelling with me about."

Heyes blinked. Beside him, Kid grew tense. They made no reply. After a moment, Asa continued. "I have a pretty fair idea of what kind of a man Thomas Pakenham is. And even if I don't spend too much time in town, I hear enough about what goes on in those poker games of his to know that maybe you boys didn't just get lucky when you beat him the other night."

Wodi shook his neck, then settled again. There was a stillness in the barn.

"Now you boys say you beat him at poker and he agreed to make a deal. I figure that's probably true as far as it goes. But I don't think a man like Pakenham is the sort to give in easy when he loses. So I think there's a little more in-between that you left out, of how exactly you persuaded him to write off that debt and hand over that letter." Asa cocked one eyebrow. "So as I was lying awake last night, turning it over my mind, what I come to thinking was this: maybe there's something more to you two than just being a pair of drifters. And maybe it's just as well that I won't ever know exactly how you got Pakenham to write that letter."

"We didn't do nothing unlawful," Kid asserted.

Beside him, Heyes nodded. "That's the truth."

Asa gave his own answering nod. "I'll take your word on that. And I won't ask you any more about what I just said… Because I've a notion this isn't the first time you boys have walked a little on the crooked side."

Heyes took a breath. Beside him, Kid said in a low voice, "Asa… You plan on telling Mrs Reed any of this, after we've gone?"

Asa shook his head. "No. I'm guessing you boys have got your reasons for not being straight with us. Probably best for us, if we don't know what those reasons are." He held them both with a steady gaze. "Probably the best thing for you, as well."

There was a long pause. Asa looked at the sober expressions on their faces, and gave a half shake of his head. "Least said, soonest mended, I reckon. Something I saw a lot of in the war. A whole lot of darkness come upon folks during those years, and it takes a while to leave that behind." He ran his hand steadily down Wodi's neck, soothing the restless horse. "But for now… We best head back out into the yard, or the young 'uns'll be coming into the barn to see to their chores and wonder why we're still here talking."

The three men walked back out into the bright morning daylight, where Asa led his horse to a stop and stiffly mounted up. He looked down at the two outlaws. "Well… I guess we won't be seeing you boys round here again anytime soon."

Heyes managed a smile, although his eyes stayed sombre. "I guess not." He looked briefly at Kid, then back to the healer. "There's some… business we've got to see to, means we're on the move most of the time. We don't know how long it'll take. But after it's settled and done, maybe we can head out this way again."

"I reckon we'd all be glad to see you both," said Asa.

Kid nodded towards the house. "And if Pakenham ever makes a move or starts causing any trouble for the Reeds, you just get word to us and we'll come right away."

Asa smiled at him. "From the way your friend here tells it, son, the both of you are going to be moving round the country far and wide. I don't reckon you'd be too easy to reach."

Heyes hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "There's a sheriff in Porterville, Wyoming. Name of Lom Trevors. If you need to reach us, get in touch with him. He'll be able to get word to us."

Asa nodded. "I'll remember that. Lom Trevors." He straightened up in his saddle. "Well, I wish you boys well. And I surely hope we'll meet again, before too many years go by."

"Goodbye, and thanks," said Kid, reaching up to shake the older man's hand one last time. He was succeeded by Heyes, who also shook the healer's hand.

"Thank you, Asa," said Heyes. "I won't forget how you fixed me up."

Asa chuckled. "You won't forget the taste of quinine in a hurry, I reckon. Make sure you don't forget to keep on taking it for a while yet."

"I'll make sure he doesn't forget," put in Kid dryly, earning himself an annoyed look from his friend. With another chuckle, Asa gathered up the reins, and urged Wodi forwards and out of the yard. Kid and Heyes stood and watched him go.

-oooOOOooo-

Once Asa had departed, there was little left for the two partners to do except pack up their own gear. Kid took a little longer than Heyes to collect his things together; as he walked out of the house he heard the sound of wood being chopped round back. Setting down his gear on the porch, he walked round to the woodpile at the back of the house, where he found Mrs Reed splitting logs. Stepping forward, he gave her a smile. "How about I finish that up for you."

Mrs Reed gave him a firm look. "I can manage well enough. Though I thank you for the offer, Thaddeus."

Kid turned his smile up a notch. "Ma'am, I know full well you can manage just fine. But it'd be my pleasure to do this one last thing to help out."

After a moment, Mrs Reed stepped away from the chopping block with good grace. She handed Kid the axe. "That's the first time I heard a body call splitting kindling a pleasure. But you go to it and welcome."

Kid set up a log on the block, gave Mrs Reed one more grin, then brought the axe down with a satisfying _thwack!_

The morning was still cool: the barrow by the wood pile was filled steadily by Mrs Reed, picking up the wood split by Kid and stacking it neatly. When at last it was full Kid drove the axe into a log and left it, then straightened up and reached for the barrow handles. "You'll be wanting this taking into the kitchen, I reckon."

"That I will. But you can leave it for me to bring."

Kid shook his head. "I just wouldn't feel right leaving the job half done." So saying, he wheeled the barrow round to the front of the house, then carried the firewood into the house, an armful at a time. When he'd finished dumping the last load he came out onto the porch, brushing a few wood chips from his shirt, then bent down to pick up his gear.

"Thank you, Thaddeus," Mrs Reed called from the chicken pen, where she'd been busy feeding the hens while he'd been carrying wood indoors.

"Like I said ma'am: it's a pleasure." Kid nodded to her in acknowledgement, then headed across the yard to the barn.

Inside Kid moved to the stalls where their horses were tethered. He saw that Heyes' sorrel was kitted out and ready to go… But there was no sign of Heyes. Giving a momentary frown, Kid saddled his own mount and strapped on his bedroll and gear. When it was done, he gave his horse a friendly pat, then headed back out into daylight. There was no sign of Mrs Reed in the yard, so Kid walked out back of the house, and on to the vegetable garden. It wasn't too long before he caught sight of Ginny and Will, hoeing industriously among the rows of plants. Kid hailed them and they instantly looked up, their faces brightening. Leaving their hoeing, both children came towards him. "You two look to be doing a good job there - don't let me stop you. I just came looking for Joshua."

"He came by a little while ago," said Ginny. "Said he was heading on out to the pasture, to take a last look over the place 'fore the both of you leave." She said the last a shade mournfully, and both she and Will regarded Kid with glum expressions.

Kid tried to counteract their gloomy looks with a cheerful smile. "Then I'd best go round him up. We'll be heading out pretty soon." Both children looked glummer than ever. "Hey – the two of you better chirk up. Me and Joshua don't want to leave here with you looking so down in the mouth. Makes us feel pretty bad our own selves."

Ginny made an effort at a brave smile, nudging her brother who tried to do the same. Kid nodded approvingly. "That's a whole lot better." He gave both children a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Before you know it, time'll pass, and one day Joshua and me'll be riding down the road again."

"When?" demanded Will eagerly. "After Thanksgiving?"

"Maybe a little longer," replied Kid cautiously, not wanting to raise any false hopes.

"By springtime?" Will asked. His sister gave him another nudge.

"C'mon, Will. We best get back to work." She looked at Kid. "We'll come and say 'bye to you and Joshua, when you go."

Kid walked out across the pasture, thinking of the hours spent with the two Reed children. Helping Ginny with the hens; mending fence with Will; listening to them giggling with laughter at Asa's tall tales on the porch the night before. A restlessness was beginning to make itself felt inside him, that was warring with the comfortableness that being with the Reeds had brought.

_Never did like drawing out goodbyes. _Part of him was mildly irritated that Heyes had chosen the moment of departure to go wandering… Although another part of him had an urge to do the same thing.

He'd walked towards the river, and was now in sight of the single oak tree under which Ned Reed's grave marker lay. Kid was unsurprised to see a familiar figure leaning against the tree, gazing away into the distance.

As he reached the cool shade under the tree, Kid slowed down and came to a halt just beside Heyes. "Taking a last look around?"

Heyes spoke quietly, still looking away from his friend. "I got a notion that I wanted to visit here a while, before we left. Wasn't sure why, till I got here."

Kid waited for a moment. When further explanation appeared unforthcoming, he prompted it. "You want to let me in on it?"

Heyes smiled wryly. "It's gonna to sound kind of screwy."

"Spill it, anyway."

"I realised, I just wished there was some way of letting Ned Reed know what happened." Heyes nodded towards the grave marker. "Y'know, that there was some way he'd know that his family are going to be okay. I'm pretty sure he died thinking he'd left them with a big burden to carry. Just… kind of makes me sad, that he never knew they would be all right."

Kid thought for a moment. Then he suggested, "Maybe what matters, is that they _are_ all right." When Heyes finally looked around at him, Kid shrugged. "Not everything can be fixed, Heyes. Ned Reed's gone, but his family are free. Maybe that's as good as it gets."

"Maybe. But I can't help wondering, how many other people Pakenham has got his claws into. How many more folks' lives he'll cast a shadow over." His mouth set into something of a bitter line. "And I'll bet he goes right on living the easy life, no matter what crooked deals he pulls. While you and me try to do the right thing, and wind up on the lam till maybe someone decides one fine day we might just deserve amnesty. That's if we don't get shot by some bounty hunter first."

Kid sighed, recognising his partner's dark mood all too well. "Heyes… Life don't seem to be a fair deal. We worked that out some considerable time ago, as I recall. But you can either let that eat away at you, or let it go. Every man ever walked on this earth gets the same choice: hold onto the good stuff, or hold onto the bad. We did a good thing, and the Reeds are better off for it." He paused, watching his friend to judge the effect of his words. "You know, Pakenham ain't our problem any longer. Getting amnesty is the job we've got, and if you ask me that's a big enough task to be working on."

Heyes was frowning now: he met his friend's gaze. "Big enough that we might not ever make it."

Kid let out a slow breath. Turning his gaze away, his eyes fell on Ned Reed's marker. "Maybe life isn't about a sure thing. Maybe it's about not knowing how things are gonna turn out, but doing the best you can anyway. Just putting one foot in front of the other, and seeing where you wind up."

Heyes smiled at last. "Kid… There are times when what you say kinda makes sense."

"Glad to hear it." Kid laid his hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a shake. "But that's about all the sermonising I got in me for one day, so we better get to moving before it wears off."

As they walked back across the pasture in the direction of the farm, it occurred to Kid that there was one more detail that was likely to help Heyes see the upside of the situation. "Y'know, it was kinda ticklish bringing this whole deal with Pakenham off… But we come out of it okay. Not to mention, with near on two thousand dollars more than we came here with."

"Any second now you're going to say, every dark cloud's got a silver lining," answered Heyes. "I hate to tell you, Kid, but someone thought of that one first."

"Well, two thousand dollars is a pretty good silver lining."

"And me coming down with marsh fever?" queried Heyes.

"I guess we'd never have come to know the Reeds if you hadn't. And you pulled through, anyway."

Heyes let one eyebrow raise. "You given any thought to what you'd have done if I hadn't pulled through?"

A grin twitched at the corners of Kid's mouth. "Why, I'd have picked out a nice, peaceful place to bury you in." He met his partner's look, allowing the grin to spread over his face. "Maybe one with a tree."

-oooOOOooo-

When the two men reached the vegetable garden, Ginny and Will left their hoeing to accompany them back to the house. As the partners went to fetch their horses from the barn, Ginny ran into the house to get her mother: once Kid and Heyes led their mounts into the yard the Reeds were waiting for them, lined up in front of the porch steps.

There was a moment's silence: Heyes broke it by stepping forward and holding out his hand to Mrs Reed. "Ma'am… I'll say goodbye. And thank you. I won't forget how you took in me and my friend here, when we needed help."

Mrs Reed shook his hand, and gave a nod. "Glad to do it," she answered. "And both of you boys have been a godsend about the place, these past few weeks. We'll miss you."

Kid stepped up too, also shaking Mrs Reed's hand. "We'll miss being here too, ma'am."

"You'll miss my cooking, I've a notion," replied Mrs Reed, a smile that was almost mischievous crossing her features. Kid gave her an answering grin.

Ginny and Will stepped forward. Ginny held out two small bundles to the outlaws, her face pinking up a little. Beside her Will stirred up the dust with one foot, eyes on the two men. Ginny spoke up. "We made you something."

Heyes and Kid took the small cloth packages from the girl. Carefully they unfolded the cloth: the wrapping of each bundle turned out to be a colourful hand-sewn bandana, neatly hemmed around each edge with tiny even stitches. Inside each bandana was a small wooden carving. Rolled up in Kid's bundle was a salmon, curved as though swimming through a rushing current of water; in Heyes' hand a mountain lion stood, its tufted ears slanted forwards in alertness. Although each carving was only a few inches long and simply executed, the spirit of each animal was caught in the wood. The two men turned their gifts over in their hands slowly, examining them… Then as one they looked up at the waiting children with smiles on their faces.

"Just saying, thank you, doesn't seem good enough," said Heyes. "These are real fine. I'll bet the two of you must have spent hours working on them."

"We didn't think we were gonna get 'em finished before you had to leave," Will explained eagerly. "Then when you went into Lawton, we worked on them every evening after supper. Ma let us stay up late."

"I reckon we never got given a finer gift," assured Kid. "Thank you, Will. And thank you, Ginny."

"They came up with the idea themselves, of making you something," explained Mrs Reed, laying one hand on each of her children's shoulders. "Thought it was only fitting."

Heyes gave his partner a sidelong look. "Well… You reckon what we came up with is going to be anywhere near as good?"

"Nope." Kid pursed his lips, looking mock-regretful. "Could be they'll be kinda disappointed."

Will and Ginny looked with puzzlement at each other, then at the two men. Kid laughed. "C'mon, Joshua – I think Will's about to bust if we don't let 'em see what it is."

Smiling, Heyes reached back into his saddlebag… And brought out two more packages, wrapped up in brown paper. One was small and narrow: he handed this to Kid, who held it out to Will. The other package was larger and flat; Heyes proffered it towards Ginny.

The children stared at the packages; seemed about to reach for them, then checked and gave a brief questioning look at their mother. She gave a nod. "Go on. But mind your manners and thank Thaddeus and Joshua first."

"Thank you, Thaddeus! Thank you, Joshua!" The children spoke together, then excitedly took the packages from the men. Will had his open in a twinkling, letting out a crow of triumph when the wrapping yielded a brand new shiny jack knife. He opened each of its three blades, turning it this way and that so that they flashed silver in the sun.

Ginny took longer to unwrap the brown paper that covered her package, but when she did her eyes grew wider than before. Inside were two leather-covered notebooks and a small flat wooden box: Ginny opened this to disclose a row of fine wooden pencils. She looked up at the two men, her mouth a small _O_ of astonishment. Heyes smiled at her. "Thaddeus told me you were a budding authoress. I figured maybe these would keep you going for a while. But you've got to promise us you'll dedicate your first book to us."

Both children appeared to be struck dumb by their gifts. Then Ginny broke the stillness: clutching her gifts tightly in one hand, she threw her arms around Heyes in a tight hug. Will followed his sister's lead, flinging himself on Kid. The two men were taken by surprise, but only for a moment: both rested their own arms around the children, returning their embrace.

Mrs Reed waited a moment, before adding her own thanks. "That's mighty generous of you boys. Thank you both." As her children detached themselves from the two outlaws, Will turned to his mother. "Ma, let's give 'em your presents now!"

Ginny rolled her eyes in disgust, as Mrs Reed regarded her son wryly. "Will Reed, you keep a secret like a bucket with a hole in it carries water." Will looked abashed. Mrs Reed laid a hand on his head briefly, signifying that her words carried no sting; then she stepped back to the porch and picked up two more objects. Turning, she placed one in Kid's hands, and the other she gave to Heyes.

Kid looked at his own gift: it was a shirt, so well cared for it was as good as new. Mrs Reed nodded at it. "Belonged to my husband. I thought you could use it. You tore a fair few holes in yourn while you were working here."

Kid knew that more than a shirt was being given here. Never as gifted with words as his friend, he found he could only fall back on the simplest of acknowledgements, feeling inwardly that it was inadequate. "Thank you." But Mrs Reed obviously sensed that the words had come from the heart, for she gave him a warm smile.

Beside Kid, Heyes held up a jar to the light, admiring the deep red of its contents. He looked at Mrs Reed, and there was a chuckle in his voice when he said, "And looky here… I got me a whole jar of those raspberry preserves. I figure somewhere down the line, you might be wanting to make a trade with me, Thaddeus."

Mrs Reed eyed him. "Well, I did make you drink a powerful lot of that fever tea. I reckoned maybe you could use something sweet, for a change."

Heyes laughed. "I'll think of you every time I taste it. Thank you."

"It's little enough reward for you both, for all the work you did here." Mrs Reed rested her gaze on each man, in turn. "Good luck, wherever you boys get to. I hope we'll see you both again here one day."

"We hope that, too." Heyes and Kid shook hands with Mrs Reed, one after the other; exchanged a last hug with the children, then mounted their horses. The family stood together on the porch, waving, as the two men turned their horses. With a last wave apiece, Kid and Heyes urged their mounts forwards and rode out of the Reeds' yard, away down the track.

-oooOOOooo-

With all the goodbyes, both men found themselves little inclined to talk. Each lost in his own thoughts, they kept a silence that lasted for more than an hour's riding. At last though, Kid appeared to surface from wherever his contemplation had taken him. "Heyes… Where are we headed?"

Heyes looked round at his friend, evidently still in the midst of his own musings. "Hmm?"

"We're not planning on riding through Lawton, are we? I figure Pakenham's probably still sore enough, we oughta give that place a wide berth."

"Yeah. I think so too." Heyes looked as though he was considering. "Brownfield's about a two-day ride from here, if we head southwest. Three days at the most, if we don't make good time."

"Don't think I'm in any hurry," responded Kid. "Long as the weather holds dry."

"Brownfield it is, then."

Kid nodded in agreement. Then he frowned. "Huh."

Heyes looked across at him. "What?"

"I just remembered. Thinking about Lawton reminded me: you never did get round to telling me why you had to go back into the saloon, just before we left town."

"Oh? Yeah, I guess I didn't." A small smile crept onto Heyes' face.

Kid regarded his friend, steadily. "Well? 'Unfinished business', was all you said."

Heyes grinned. "That's right."

"You gonna tell me now, exactly what 'unfinished business' it was?"

"Sure, Kid…"

-oooOOOooo-

A little over two days before, late morning on Saturday, Ben Yates looked up from stacking glasses under the bar to find George Hampton standing on the other side of it. He straightened up, regarding the little man dubiously. "Well… Hadn't figured on seeing you up and about anytime soon, George," he remarked. "You're still looking kinda peaked."

Hampton had a wilted look about him, and his face still had something of a sickly hue about it. He leaned heavily on the bar. "If I had my druthers, I reckon I would still be in bed. But I figured I ought to get over here, in case Mr Pakenham wanted to see me."

Yates gave the little man a sympathetic look. "Well… Truth to tell, he did ask me to find you sometime this morning, give you a message. Said he wants you to come to his office, noon today."

Hampton stared bleakly down at the bar. His expression revealed that he was unsurprised by this announcement. The queasiness that had dominated his face took on a tinge of dread.

As a loyal employee of Pakenham himself, Yates said nothing aloud that could have been construed as a criticism of their boss. However, his empathy for his colleague went so far as to prompt him to fill a shot glass with whiskey, and slide it across the bar to Hampton.

Hampton stared glassy-eyed at the whiskey, and a small shudder ran through his frame. "Thanks all the same, Ben," he said tremulously. "Don't reckon I'm up to the hard stuff just yet."

Yates nodded understandingly, taking the glass of whiskey back across the bar. After a few moments' consideration, he knocked the drink back himself, wiped the shot glass on the cloth he'd been using to clean the bar counter, then tucked the empty glass back under the bar. Reaching under there appeared to remind him of something: he took out an envelope from where it had been tucked away next to the glasses, and placed it on the bar. "I nearly forgot. This is for you." He pushed the envelope across to Hampton.

The dealer turned his eyes on the envelope and gave it a frown. "What is it?"

Yates shrugged. "Damned if I know. That feller Smith, he swung in here at first light, left it here for you. Said to give it to you when I saw you." He nudged the envelope with a finger. "Maybe he thought he oughta leave you something, on account of him doing so well in that poker game." He smiled encouragingly at Hampton. "I guess Mr Pakenham doesn't have to know anything about it."

Hampton slowly picked the envelope up. Written across the front in pencil were the words: _GEORGE HAMPTON._

Hampton slid his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tore it open. Two fifty dollar bills came out to his questing hand, folded inside a piece of paper.

Behind the bar, Yates whistled. "Well, now I know you better not tell Mr Pakenham anything about it. A hundred dollars – that's mighty generous. I heard that's what folks do, but only in fancy casinos and suchlike." Yates peered at the money. "The winners, I mean."

Blinking, Hampton nodded. He unfolded the piece of paper: written on it clearly in pencil, were the following two lines:

_A tip for the dealer:_

And then, a little way below it:

_Find yourself a new job._

Yates tried unsuccessfully to see what was written on the note. Hampton glanced at him; carefully folded the piece of paper and the hundred dollars, and put them away in his pocket. When he returned his gaze up to Yates, there was a distant look in his eyes.

"I reckon I'll have that drink now, Ben," was all he said. Wordlessly, Yates poured out another glass of whiskey and handed it over. Hampton drained it in one go; shuddered slightly as the spirits went down; then set the empty glass back on the bar. "Thanks."

"Sure." Yates watched, slightly bemused, as the dealer turned on his heel and headed for the door that led to the street outside. "Uh… You remember I told you, that Mr Pakenham wants to see you in his office at noon?"

"I remember, Ben." Hampton raised a hand as he exited through the doors, without looking around.

As it turned out, Thomas Pakenham waited in his office for George Hampton long past noon. It took much less than an hour for Hampton to pack the little he owned into a bag and buy himself a horse…

-oooOOOooo-

Kid regarded his partner quizzically as Heyes finished his explanation. "You gave Hampton a hundred dollars of our money?"

"We walked away with more'n two thousand. I figured you wouldn't mind." Heyes gave him a persuasive smile. "I felt kind of bad about what we did to him. Just thought it would even things up a little."

Kid remained unpersuaded. "Okay, I'll say that another way: you gave Hampton a hundred dollars of _your share_ of the money?"

Heyes looked a little wounded. "Think of it as an investment. Maybe one day we'll run into him dealing poker in another town, and he'll remember that he owes us a favour."

"Heyes… I thought the whole point of us moving on all the time is that we don't _want_ people to remember us."

Heyes maintained a positive spin. "Well, at least Hampton'll remember us kindly."

Kid snorted. "Unlike his boss…"

A grin came over his friend's face. "Kid…That I can live with."


End file.
